


Building Rome

by dettiot



Series: Finding Home [2]
Category: Chuck (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, Sequel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-30
Updated: 2013-01-26
Packaged: 2017-11-11 01:42:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 19
Words: 134,319
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/473070
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dettiot/pseuds/dettiot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nine months after making the decision that changed his life, Chuck is coping with an Intersect that is a work-in-progress. Sarah is learning how to balance her spy life and her personal life for the first time. But when the first rule of spying is never fall in love, how will their relationship stand the pressure? Sequel to Discovering Omaha.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So here we go: the next chapter in my AU take on Chuck and Sarah. There's some familiar characters appearing in this story as well as some new plot twists. I'm so thankful for all the love for Discovering Omaha, and I hope Building Rome is another satisfying read!
> 
> By the way, you can check dettiot on Twitter or Tumblr to get updates on this story, as well as cutting-room floor excerpts and other ficcy thoughts.

The barely-noticeable crackle of static was the only warning Chuck had before a honey-soft voice whispered in his ear.

"Chuck, on your three o'clock. That's her."

He nodded, then glanced up at the nearest video camera and gave the camera-and by extension Sarah-a quick smile. Pausing only to pick up two flutes of wine from a passing waiter, Chuck made his way to his target: a curvy brunette in a form-fitting, cleavage-baring dress.

" _Mi scusi, signorina._ " Chuck gave the woman his best charming smile. He held one of the glasses out to her. " _Una bella donna con un bicchiere vuoto. . ._ " He stumbled a bit over the Italian words, wishing once again that he had Sarah's gift for languages.

The woman ran her eyes over him slowly, and Chuck tried to hold back on the shiver that went down his spine. Now he knew how a mouse felt when confronted by a cat.

"Thank you," the woman said, speaking perfect English in a throaty voice and an Italian accent. She took the glass of wine and sipped it. "Charming manners in an American . . . what an unexpected pleasure."

If a woman had said something like that to him, he'd shrug or blush or kick a foot against the ground. But tonight he wasn't Chuck Bartowski. He wasn't the nerd from California who knew more about video games than he'd ever know about women. Tonight, he was Charles Carmichael, and Charles Carmichael always knew what to say to women.

So he sipped his wine and smiled slowly at his target. "I suppose my mother was right about those etiquette classes when I was a boy, then."

The woman laughed silkily. "Poor little boy. I'm sure you gave your mother much heartache, Mr. . . . ?"

Chuck held his hand out to her. "Charles Carmichael, originally from Philadelphia."

She shook his hand, letting her fingers trail over his skin as she pulled her hand back. "And I am Sophia. You're a long way from Philadelphia, Mr. Carmichael." Her eyes were large and demure, even as she moved closer to him.

He swallowed and took a larger sip of wine. He was sure one member of the Intersect team was preparing the popcorn for another edition of Chuck Screws Up A Seduction. Whenever he had to do this, he always seemed to mess up. Break character, insult the mark, something. He just wasn't the playboy type. Tonight, though, he had to stay focused and get the job done, no matter how distasteful he found it.

Taking a moment, he collected himself and remembered he was acting. Just like when he was played Perchik in Fiddler on the Roof. Only this time, there was less facial hair.

"Philadelphia has no women as beautiful as you, Sophia, so how could I stay there?"

The line worked. Sophia laughed and lightly slapped his shoulder. "Oh, Mr. Carmichael!"

Chuck smiled. "Please, call me Charles."

She smiled and tossed her hair, revealing an ornate pin on the shoulder of her dress. The pin featured a large cluster of diamonds, with a long bar going through the fabric of her dress before ending in a screw-on fastener. Chuck's eyes were drawn to the piece of jewelry and he felt the now-familiar sensation of a flash. The noise of the party fell away, and his eyes fluttered as the Intersect fed him a series of images.

_The Eiffel Tower-a colorful line graph-a photo of the pin-a schematic of diamond-shaped microdots-the word FULCRUM-the Eiffel Tower_

After nine months with the Intersect, he'd learned how to hide most evidence of his flashes. Ignoring the pain pounding in his temples, he reached out and ran his hand over Sophia's shoulder, lingering on her bare skin. "And you are very beautiful." He looked at her and gave her what he hoped was an arrogant smile. "You've made the jet lag worth it."

On the inside, he couldn't help feeling slimy. But Sophia didn't seem to mind the arrogance; she let her eyes flick down to his lips before looking at him. "There's other activities that are worth a sleepless night, Charles."

He sighed heavily, injecting a note of regret in his voice. "If only I could." Chuck kept running his fingers over her shoulder, lingering on the strap of her dress.

"Why can't you?" Sophia asked flirtatiously. She slowly tip-toed her fingers along his shoulder, over his tuxedo jacket. Then she sank her hand into his hair, pulling his head down towards hers.

At the last moment, he turned his head and brushed his lips over her jaw, that slimy feeling increasing. But he pushed through his discomfort, sliding his fingers down the strap of her dress. "Oh, Sophia . . ."

This needed to be over, and soon. He'd been lucky so far, but he wasn't about to kiss a strange woman, even if she was wearing a pin that could contain valuable intel on Fulcrum.

He moved his lips to her ear, whispering softly about her beauty and her appeal, as he loosened the fastener on the pin. He finally got it off, kissing along her jaw lightly to distract her. With that done, he lifted his head and gazed at her, letting his hand rest over the pin.

"I wish this could be more than this, Sophia, but . . ."

"But what, Charles?" she said, oozing charm and sex appeal. "We could very easily make this more. Come back to my villa with me."

He ran his eyes over her, mimicking her earlier action. "I have a big day tomorrow."

"Bah, tomorrow," she said sultrily. "Live for tonight, Charles."

"You would be a very lovely way to spend my last night as a bachelor, Sophia . . . but I'm afraid that would just be unfair to you," he said, almost rolling his eyes at the line. How did some men say these kinds of things? Having so little respect for women was utterly foreign to him, and at this point all he wanted was to finish this job.

He quickly slipped the pin off her dress, letting his hand fall away as he took a step away from her. "I'm sure you understand how a man could be tempted just before his wedding . . ."

From the reddening of her face and the snapping of her eyes, he didn't think Sophia felt much sympathy for him at the moment. She hissed a few words in Italian, her voice full of barely-concealed rage, and slapped him hard across his cheek. Then she spit at his feet and stormed off.

"Nicely done, Chuck."

Sarah's voice through his earwig was amused. He took that as a good sign she wasn't upset about his CIA-demanded flirtation with Sophia. Since his cover wouldn't allow him to grin goofily and release the tension, he started moving through the crowd to the exit. Once he was outside, he relaxed a little and smiled to himself before speaking quietly into the bug concealed in his watch.

"What was your favorite part? When I tried to speak Italian? Or when she slapped me?"

"That last one was mine," a gruff voice cut in on the frequency. "Did you get it?"

"Yeah, I got it, Casey. She had a real arm on her. Next time, you can be the one who gets slapped by the scorned woman and I'll wait in the van," Chuck said, still grinning.

Casey just grunted, and he could hear a soft laugh from Sarah. "Meet us at the rendezvous point, Chuck."

"See you soon," he said, heading to the valet stand to get his car, eager to see Sarah and to find out what the pin's microdots would reveal.

XXX

The unmarked black van was parked a hundred yards from the gates of the villa where the party was held. After driving down the long driveway and out the gates, Chuck pulled the Lamborghini Gallardo behind the van and unfolded himself from behind the wheel. He opened the back door of the van and climbed in.

"'Bout time," Casey said grumpily. "You're driving a damn supercar like you're a grandmother."

"Do you know how much gas that car burns?" Chuck asked, dropping into a chair next to Sarah. He rubbed his temples, trying to soothe the headache that was forming from his flash. "And besides, if I drive slow, there's less chance of me wrecking the very expensive car that the U.S. Government bought as part of my cover."

"The car is probably seized property, Chuck," Sarah said. She smiled at him. "Most likely recovered during a drug raid or organized crime investigation."

"Still doesn't mean I shouldn't be careful with it," Chuck said firmly.

Casey shrugged his shoulders in agreement and Sarah shook her head. "Okay, Chuck. Let's see the pin."

"Yeah," he said, reaching into the pocket of his jacket and pulling out the pin. He set it in front of Sarah, on the counter that ran along the side of the van which supported all the surveillance monitors. He let his hand brush against hers, allowing himself the bit of contact even in the middle of a mission. He wished he could do more: kiss her cheek, tell her how he had felt nothing when Sophia had flirted with him. But now wasn't the time. "I'm pretty sure she didn't notice me taking it off."

Sarah looked at him, her eyebrow quirked in amusement. "I think she was too busy feeling insulted."

"I felt awful about doing it, but I couldn't think of any way to get out of there other than getting her mad," Chuck protested.

"It was a good move," Sarah said, smiling at him. She slid on a pair of magnifying glasses and leaned down to examine the pin.

"Still looked like a kid at his first dance," Casey said. "Thought you CIA types were lovers, not fighters."

Chuck did his best to hold back his sigh. John Casey was a true patriot: John Wayne with a submachine gun. He was the NSA member of their team, and he had plenty of experience in undercover operations, sharpshooting, and hand-to-hand combat. Yet while most agents would be pleased to be living the high life in Rome, enjoying a beautiful villa and eating amazing food, Casey wasn't happy. Apparently, he felt his time here in Italy was a punishment and kept talking about how he wanted to get back to Afghanistan, where he was really needed.

He knew that Casey was dedicated to his job and Chuck certainly couldn't complain about his performance. But the constant digs at Chuck were starting to take their toll. Casey seemed to think all CIA agents were soft, and Chuck in particular.

Suddenly, he felt a hand rest lightly on his knee. Chuck let out the breath he had been holding, feeling his body relax. Trust Sarah to know how to calm him down. She rubbed his knee, then pulled her hand away in order to steady the pin while she took a closer look.

She let out a soft sigh and dropped the pin on the counter. "It's fake," she said, pushing the glasses up to rest on top of her head.

"W-What?" Chuck sputtered. "It can't be! It's in the Intersect."

"What do you mean, it's fake?" Casey asked at the same time.

Sarah shrugged. "It's just a slightly gaudy pin. It doesn't have any microdots on it. Either Sophia," Sarah said, saying the woman's name with an Italian accent, "doesn't have any connection with Fulcrum and it's a coincidence that she has the same pin as the one we're looking for, or-"

"Fulcrum was tipped off that we were going to be here and used a fake pin," Chuck said, his mind racing.

"It's a possibility," Sarah said. "Either way, this mission is officially a bust." She took off the glasses and ran a hand over her hair. "We should get back, prepare for our briefing tomorrow."

Casey grunted. "Another ass-chewing. My favorite way to start the day."

"I'm sorry, guys-I really thought we were on the right track," Chuck said, looking back and forth between Casey and Sarah. "It's my fault, and I'll tell Director Graham and General Beckman that in the briefing."

"It's not your fault if the Intersect has bad intelligence, Chuck," Sarah said, putting her hand on his arm. "This kind of thing, it happens all the time."

He let his head drop, needing to hide from Sarah and Casey for a moment. He knew Sarah was right that sometimes a mission just didn't pan out, but he still felt guilty for not getting this right. And he didn't think this one could be blamed on the Intersect. He'd just had an update to the Intersect three months ago and he spent plenty of time evaluating reports and mission logs as part of his daily workload. It wasn't the intelligence that was faulty-it was his analysis.

"Casey, why don't you drive the Lamborghini back to the villa?" Sarah asked softly. Chuck lifted his head and saw the concerned expression on her face as she glanced at him, before she turned and smiled at Casey. "Take it for a spin and make sure it's running well at high speeds."

"Hell, yeah," Casey said with a smirk, holding his hand out for the keys. "Car might be made by Commies, but it's fun to drive."

Chuck handed them over and Casey maneuvered around them to the van's exit. "See you back at the villa. Hope you like your new piece of jewelry, Walker." Casey stepped out of the van, closing the door loudly. There was a roar of a car engine which quickly faded into silence.

Sarah faced Chuck, moving her chair closer to him. "Stop it."

"Stop what?" he asked, glancing at her before dropping his head back down. He fidgeted a bit with the electronics equipment on the counter in front of him.

"Stop beating yourself up," she said, her voice firm. "It's one mission."

"No, it's not," he said, shaking his head and leaning back in his chair. "Out of the last five missions, only one of them actually got us good intel. Sarah, I feel like I'm on thin ice here. Maybe I'm not the right guy for this."

She reached out and grabbed his hand. "We're in a rough patch. I'll admit that. But we're doing good work here and you're part of that good work."

Chuck looked at her, really taking her in. It was always a pleasure to look at Sarah, of course. Even wearing dark clothes, her hair back in a ponytail, she took his breath away. The nine months they had spent together in Rome had been some of the best months of his life, mostly because of her. Because not only was she an amazing spy, she was also an amazing woman.

"I'm wallowing again, aren't I?"

She smiled at him, her nose crinkling a little. "Yep."

He laughed and kissed her cheek, feeling his headache and his self-doubt receding. "And no wallowing allowed."

"Nope," she said, letting go of his hand and standing up. "Let's get back to the villa and get some sleep."

"Just sleep?" he asked with a grin, standing up as best he could in the cramped confines of the van and following her up to the front seat.

Sarah grinned at him from the driver's seat. "There might be more than sleep available. Why do you think I told Casey to take his time with the Gallardo?"

"Have I mentioned that smart, beautiful women are my Kryptonite?" Chuck said, grinning widely at her.

"Don't you mean 'woman'? As in just me?" Sarah asked, arching an eyebrow at him.

Chuck swallowed. "Yes, you're absolutely right. You are my Kryptonite, Sarah Walker. You and you alone."

"And don't you forget it," she said, giving him a toothy smile.

"I won't. I promise. Didn't you say something about us going?" Chuck gave her a smile, trying to recapture the mood.

"I did." She leaned across the seats and kissed him softly. He reached out and stroked her cheek, savoring the chance to touch her. When she pulled away and looked at him, he felt dazed.

"Well, then, let's go," Chuck said, fumbling with his seatbelt and managing to fasten it on his second try.

With a laugh, Sarah started the van and headed towards the villa.

XXX

Chuck woke up to the rustle of sheets. According to the clock, it was four-thirty in the morning. He rolled over and saw Sarah pulling on her t-shirt. He frowned and sighed, sitting up in bed.

When Sarah had told him that they'd have to keep their relationship quiet, he hadn't thought that meant they'd never get to spend the whole night together. Even on the few occasions that they were alone in the villa-when Casey was out for the night and there wasn't a NSA tech on site-she still insisted on going back to her own room before morning.

"It's too great a risk, Chuck," she had explained their third night in the villa. "Even if nobody's around when we go to bed, they could be there when we wake up. And given the regulations, it's better if we just lay low."

He'd tried to change her mind, to compromise by asking her to stay one night a week. But when it came to the rules, Sarah didn't believe in breaking them. He wasn't ready to give up, though.

"Sarah . . ." he said softly. "Don't go."

She gave him an apologetic smile as she stepped into her pants, pulling them up and fastening them. "I can't stay, Chuck. You know that."

"Can I just ask, are you going to leave when we're at my sister's next week? Because Ellie is gonna think it's pretty strange when my girlfriend sneaks out of my bed to sleep on the couch." He smiled at her a little, trying to make his words sound joking instead of accusatory.

Her cheeks turned pink, as they usually did when he referred to her as his girlfriend. She hesitated and sat on the edge of the bed, looking at him. Chuck reached out and tugged on her hand, pulling her into a kiss.

Sarah kissed him back slowly, her body warm and soft against his. He slid an arm around her, keeping her close to him. As the kiss ended, he gazed at her, taking in her face.

"It'll be different when we're on vacation," Sarah said softly. "I won't leave then."

"Yeah?" he asked, gazing at her.

She nodded. "I'm . . . I'm really looking forward to our vacation," she said, looking a bit shy. "But that doesn't change that I can't stay." She stroked his arms, then stood up. "You should get some more sleep. We both should."

Chuck sighed. "Okay. I'll see you in the morning."

"Good night, Chuck," she said, a note of regret in her voice, before she opened the door and slipped out of the room.

He flopped back on the bed, gazing up at the carved and gilded ceiling. It wasn't that he didn't understand Sarah's point of view. He did, and he knew how smart she was being about their relationship. Sometimes, though, he thought it'd be nice if Sarah just threw caution to the wind. Did what she wanted instead of what she should. If just once in a while she stopped denying herself because the rules said she should.

But that wasn't Sarah. She claimed she wasn't a thinker, that she relied on her instincts. But she thought more about things, and was more tentative about her feelings, than most people would suspect. The old phrase "still waters run deep" definitely applied to his girlfriend.

Chuck smiled a little. His girlfriend. It was still pretty amazing that he was dating Sarah Walker. And next week he'd be taking her home to meet his family.

It had taken a fair amount of persuading to convince Sarah to come on vacation with him. Once he found out that she'd never taken any personal time off since joining the CIA, and she was about to lose a large chunk of her accrued leave, he'd stressed how logical it was to take a vacation. Combined with his repeated reassurances that he really wanted her to meet his sister and best friend, and they were sure to welcome her, he'd somehow managed to get her to agree to a trip together.

He'd definitely felt some nerves about going on vacation with Sarah. It was a big step for a couple, he knew. Add in the fact that it wasn't a trip to some romantic getaway, but a visit to the prosaic world of Burbank, California, and Chuck had really wondered if she'd agree to come along on his trip home. But the bottom line was he couldn't imagine not having her there. Ever since they had left the Project Omaha location, they hadn't gone a day apart. He didn't want to go a week without her.

It was important to him that his family-Ellie and Morgan, even Devon-got to meet Sarah. She'd become a huge part of his life, and she was the only aspect of his world that his family could know about. All they knew was that he worked for the government; he'd signed reams of paperwork when he became a CIA agent about concealing his real job. At least he had a cover job he could talk about: software engineer for the Food and Drug Administration.

More than just being important for Sarah to meet his family, he really wanted this visit to go well. Ellie hadn't liked Jill at all, which had made visits during Stanford uncomfortable. Morgan had been somewhat cool towards Jill, too; a no-holds-barred argument about Everquest versus Legend of Zelda meant they'd never really connected. If Morgan and Ellie didn't like Sarah . . .

Chuck shook his head and rolled over, punching his pillow. Sarah was great, and everyone was going to like her. It'd be great to be on vacation with Sarah, spend time together while visiting with his family. Losing sleep over all this wasn't the smart thing to do.

Pulling the covers up around him, he closed his eyes, trying to calm his mind. Sarah had been right: more sleep would be a good thing, especially since it wasn't going to be a good briefing tomorrow.

XXX

Chuck stood at attention, flanked by Casey and Sarah, in front of the large video screen. He didn't know if it was required that he stand that way, but it seemed the smart thing to do. Although at this point, he was pretty sure that there wasn't much that could make this situation any better.

"Another mission where this team failed to complete its objective," General Diane Beckman said crisply. "I just needed to summarize what you've said, to make sure I fully grasped this."

On the inside, Chuck withered under the sarcasm. He swallowed and spoke. "That is correct, General."

"Thank you, Agent Bartowski." General Beckman closed a file folder and leaned closer to the camera. "Agents, I am becoming concerned about your recent failures."

"We understand, General, and we're also concerned. We can at least say that the Intersect itself is working correctly; Agent Bartowski's flashes have given him much-needed information, both in the field and out," Sarah said, her voice measured and professional. Chuck glanced at her out of the corner of his eye and noticed how tense she looked.

"But is the information correct? That seems to be the problem."

"I'd disagree, Diane," Director Langston Graham said. "The problem is the analysis of the intel, not the information contained within the Intersect. That's where the missions have been failing lately."

Chuck swallowed. "Yes, sir. I have to take complete responsibility for those errors." He straightened up, trying to project a confidence he didn't really feel. "I am reviewing more reports, reading everything we know about Fulcrum. These kinds of mistakes can't keep happening, I know."

"No, they can't," Beckman said. "Major Casey, what are your thoughts?"

Like Chuck, Casey straightened up slightly. Chuck looked at the older man, worried about what he might say. He hadn't hidden his disdain for Chuck's performance. Would he take advantage of their superiors' unhappiness to drive the nail in Chuck's coffin?

"Just a few bad missions, ma'am. Nothing more than that. We'll get back on track with the next one."

It was all Chuck could do to not gape at Casey. This kind of support from the NSA agent was totally unexpected. Very welcome, but still very surprising.

General Beckman sighed and Director Graham spoke. "I understand that Agents Bartowski and Walker will be on leave next week. I strongly encourage you both to be ready and focused when you return."

"Yes, Director, that is the plan. A lot of rest and relaxation is in the cards," Chuck said, his words tumbling out of his mouth.

The director blinked, looking a bit taken aback. General Beckman looked like she was barely resisting the urge to roll her eyes. "Major, we'll expect you to hold down the fort in the absence of Agents Bartowski and Walker. I'm sure you'll carry out your duties with all due diligence."

"Yes, ma'am," Casey said.

"Very good," Beckman said with a nod.

Director Graham folded his arms over his chest, his expression neutral but his voice commanding. "Agents Bartowski and Walker, until you leave on vacation, I expect you to be reviewing mission logs day and night."

"Yes, Director," Sarah said.

"And you'll stop in D.C. on your way back to Rome, for some further testing of the Intersect," the general said, her voice making it clear that no argument would be permitted. "Let's eliminate the Intersect as a possible weak point."

Director Graham looked annoyed by General Beckman's request, but he nodded. "I'm sure the scientists would like some additional data on your use of the Intersect, Agent Bartowski."

"I understand, sir, ma'am," Chuck said, holding back a grimace. He hated the Intersect testing he had to endure, since it involved hours of flashing. When one flash could give him a pounding headache, testing resulted in migraines so bad he nearly passed out. But he knew his superiors were right. They had to make sure the Intersect was working properly and providing good intelligence.

"Very good, then. See you in a week, agents. Major." Graham nodded and ended the video conference.

As soon as the screen went black, Chuck slumped down against the conference table. "That wasn't so bad."

"Still, let's stop having briefings like that?" Sarah said, giving Chuck a small smile as she rested against the table next to him.

"I agree," he said, taking a deep breath.

Casey grunted and Chuck turned to face him. "Thank you for not throwing me to the wolves, Casey."

"I'm waiting until you really screw up to do that," Casey said. "I'm gonna go clean my weapons." With that, he stalked out of the conference room, heading towards the armory.

Chuck turned back towards Sarah. "What do you think-Casey's starting to warm up to me, huh?" He gave Sarah a lopsided smile, trying to make her laugh. He needed to have something simple and easy and clear, instead of hidden support and snarky comments.

Sarah chuckled softly and took his hand. "I can see it, definitely."

He squeezed her hand. "I am sorry about this."

"Hey, what did I say last night?"

"I'm sorry, you'll need to narrow that down," Chuck said, moving closer to her and lowering his voice.

Sarah ducked her head and nudged him, but not before he saw her smile. "In the van. No wallowing."

"Yes, ma'am," Chuck said, giving her a quick salute.

That made Sarah actually laugh, then she turned to face him, their joined hands resting on her knee. "Stop distracting me. I'm being serious. We'll spend this week going over every scrap of intelligence about Fulcrum, and then we'll go on vacation and let that info sit in our subconscious. We're bound to come up with some new ideas if we're relaxed and not thinking about it."

Chuck considered this plan. Perhaps that was the issue: he had gotten so focused that he couldn't see the forest for the trees. Adding in his nerves and worry, maybe it wasn't so surprising that he hadn't been doing very well lately.

"That makes sense," Chuck said, looking at Sarah.

"Of course it does," Sarah said with a grin. She squeezed his hand, then let go and stood up. "Let's get to work."

With a smile, he lifted himself off the conference table. "Time to put the nose to the grindstone."

"And then we have vacation," Sarah reminded him.

Chuck nodded as he followed her, his mind juggling the Fulcrum problem, his thoughts about his relationship with Sarah, and his hopes for their vacation. It was a lot to think about, but it was time to focus on work. There would be plenty of time to deal with the rest later.

End, Chapter 1


	2. Chapter 2

No one ever considered all the paperwork that came with espionage, Sarah mused as she finished reading another report. Most people thought being a spy was all car chases and gunfights in exotic locations. And it was that, some of the time. But the majority of her life as a spy was sitting in drab office buildings, reading paperwork and developing strategies. Luckily for her, on this assignment she got a great view while she read through intelligence reports. And she didn't just mean the landscape.

She set the latest briefing on Fulcrum on top of the small stack of finished reports to her left, then looked at the tall stack to her right and sighed. Pushing back from her desk, she rolled her head and stretched, trying to work out the kinks.

Chuck, at his desk next to hers, looked at her and smiled. "Slow going?"

She nodded, lifting her arms over her head. "Yeah. I thought I knew all there was to know about Fulcrum, but clearly I've just discovered the tip of the iceberg." She gestured towards the stack of files still awaiting her perusal.

He grinned at her. "Tell me about it." Chuck turned back to the reports on his desk, immediately getting lost in them.

It was something she still marveled at: how focused Chuck could be. He was a sponge for knowledge, soaking up random details that both she and Casey missed. It didn't seem to be something the Intersect had created in him. Even during Omaha training, she'd seen how quickly he could learn. Now that she spent every day with him, she could see just how smart he was. Although lately their missions were unsuccessful, she couldn't blame Chuck's analysis, because she usually agreed with his findings. And it wasn't about because he was her boyfriend, but because she thought he was right.

Sarah rested her chin in her hand, propping her elbow on her desk, and watched him. Chuck would always be the first person to knock his looks, pointing out his gangly arms and legs, his wildly out-of-control hair, and the nose that he thought was too big. And it was true, he didn't look like the typical CIA agent.

But Sarah thought his other features more than compensated for any asymmetrical ones. His height and his physique was impressive, especially with the way he kept adding muscle to his frame. His warm brown eyes and big smile never failed to make her smile back at him. And she loved looking at his hands. She couldn't explain it, but watching his fingers fly over a touchscreen or feeling his hand wrapped around hers always made her feel good.

He was the reason that this assignment kept exciting her, kept challenging her. She used to think these kinds of long-term assignments would be boring, that she'd lose interest and feel trapped in one place. But these months with Chuck made her realize that working undercover, a different city every day, would be the easy path. She knew how to live that kind of life, thanks to her childhood of moving around and performing cons with her father. Working in deep cover had seemed like a natural progression for her-only now she'd be on the right side of the law. But she knew now that deep cover wouldn't have challenged herself, pushing her to see just what she could do.

And the best part was, this team could be a blockbuster. Casey was a bit gruff, certainly. But he was an amazing sharpshooter, and had already taught her a few things that had helped the entire team. Chuck of course had the mind of an analyst with the improving physical skills of a field agent. And she brought quick instincts and expert hand-to-hand combat training to the table. If they could just get past this rough patch, she knew that Fulcrum didn't stand a chance against them.

Chuck glanced at her and smiled softly, then turned back to his paperwork. Sarah took a deep breath and rolled her chair up to her desk, grabbing the next report. But instead of reading, her eyes just stared at the page.

Happiness used to be a fleeting emotion for her. A scoop of rocky road ice cream, leaving a town where she hadn't fit in. She had thought that with her upbringing, the most she could hope for in her life was satisfaction she was doing her job, serving her country. But happiness didn't seem to be in the cards for her, she had thought.

She was happy now. She was living in Rome, surrounded by beauty and staying in a luxurious villa. She was working on the most intriguing puzzle she'd ever tackled as a CIA agent, working with the best of the best, provided with all the equipment they needed. She was slowly figuring out more about what she liked and enjoyed doing, learning how to be more than just a spy, even if she was taking baby steps so far.

And she had Chuck. This sweet, quirkily handsome, total genius of a man cared about her. He saw good things in her. Not because she was beautiful, or because she was a good spy. Chuck cared, and she still wasn't sure what he saw in her, but she didn't want to lose him.

This was her first real relationship. And she didn't want to screw things up, not when she knew how much she could lose. Keeping their relationship under the radar was the smart thing to do. Not just because it could interfere with the team dynamics if they were kissing all over the villa, but because while the CIA turned a blind eye towards partners becoming involved, the official rules stated that agents couldn't have emotional connections. Sex was one thing. Love was something very different.

Sarah swallowed. Her relationship with Chuck was private, something she wanted to keep to herself. When two agents got together, it was always the female one who was the subject of gossip and jokes. Who got a reputation that followed her for the rest of her career. She'd worked too hard, given up too much, to let that happen to her.

The CIA had taken a seventeen-year-old girl and turned her into an agent, but in exchange she'd given them everything. At the time, it had seemed like a bargain. But now, at nearly twenty-three, she realized that she had sold herself short. She wanted something in her life that didn't have to be about spying or secrets. And if to get that she had to keep the depth of her feelings secret, she'd make that sacrifice. Staying with Chuck, both as his girlfriend and his partner, was worth giving up small things like sharing a bedroom. Especially since those things made her feel a bit nervous.

Chuck was sweet and affectionate and open. So open with his emotions and his smiles, not to mention all the romantic things he said. She wasn't like that. She couldn't just say what she was feeling or thinking, not when she'd spent most of her life being what people wanted by hiding her real self. The perfect accessory to a con or the perfect spy: that was what she knew, and getting over those habits was difficult.

But she was changing, she knew. She was learning how to let her guard down with the people she trusted. And Chuck was one of those people. She felt a small smile form on her face. All those months ago, when she had opened a folder and seen his picture clipped to paperwork about another Project Omaha recruit, she hadn't expected that he'd become so important to her. So even when she got that jittery feeling that made her want to run because he was getting too close, she worked past it. Because he was teaching her that being together was better than being alone.

She glanced at Chuck one more time, then squared her shoulders and made herself focus. There would be plenty of time later to think about how wonderful her boyfriend was. She leaned in closer to her paperwork, hoping she could hide her blush, and started reading.

XXX

With a frown, Sarah looked around her bedroom, marveling at how every flat surface was covered with the contents of her closet. All her serenity and determination had faded as she confronted a serious problem: what to pack for her vacation with Chuck.

If it had been just the two of them, she'd know what to do. Into her suitcase would go her best lingerie, a variety of bikinis, a few dresses that featured a short skirt, no back or a low neckline, very high heels, and some tight pants and dressy tops. Easy and done: the perfect wardrobe for a romantic vacation with her boyfriend.

But it wasn't just about the two of them. It was about meeting his family. And Sarah Walker had never, ever met the family of someone she knew. She'd never had friends who invited her over to their houses. For that matter, she'd never had a date who met her father. Not that she wanted that to happen with Chuck; she still hadn't revealed many details about how she had grown up, and telling him about her father was something she had to work up to.

Looking around the room, she took a breath and started sorting her clothes, preparing to put them back in her closet. As she went, she looked at each piece of clothing and evaluated whether she should pack it. What did someone wear to meet their boyfriend's family? Even though she wouldn't be meeting his parents, it was just as nerve-wracking to meet Chuck's sister and his best friend.

Chuck set a high regard on Ellie's opinion. They were incredibly close, with emails flying back and forth between them and weekly phone calls. Even though Chuck couldn't tell Ellie any details about his life, he still managed to have long, in-depth conversations about what he was feeling and thinking. And he listened even more than he talked, hearing all about his sister's life and her boyfriend and her work.

Sarah didn't have much experience, but Chuck seemed like a good brother. And Sarah wanted Ellie to have a good opinion of her. She didn't want to disappoint Chuck or make him feel like he was torn between his sister and his girlfriend. She wanted to make it clear just how much she cared about Ellie's brother. But she wasn't sure how to do that. She'd tried to figure out what to do, but secretly Googling "meeting your boyfriend's family" hadn't made things any clearer, though.

She sighed in frustration and pushed aside a stack of pants to sit down on her bed. At least there was advice on meeting your significant other's family. But meeting his best friend? That was even more confusing. Morgan had been Chuck's best friend since kindergarten. He'd seen Chuck through so many moments in his life, good and bad, while she'd known Chuck for barely a year.

Chuck had already warned her that Morgan hadn't reacted well when Chuck had brought his college girlfriend home. Sarah hadn't really understood what Chuck meant, though. Was Morgan jealous of losing time with his best friend? Did he think Chuck deserved better than Jill? Or was it something less pleasant, like Morgan secretly being in love with Chuck?

The nerves that were making her stomach clench suddenly became too much for her. Even though her room was still a mess, she had to leave and find some way to work out her frustration. And in the basement of the villa, there was a room designed to eliminate frustration.

Within fifteen minutes, Sarah had on goggles and ear protectors. She stood with her arms extended as she sighted along the barrel of her gun, then let off a series of shots. As she fired, she started to feel more in control, more focused. It took three rounds of target shooting, but when she finished, her mind was clear.

Chuck wasn't worried about Sarah making a good impression on his family. He was worried about whether she would like them and if they would like her in return. She'd never had friends and now Chuck was giving her the chance to make some. Ellie and Morgan had no reason to try and sabotage her relationship with Chuck; he had said that Ellie had pushed him to talk to Sarah, to ask her out, long before he was ready to tell Sarah about his feelings for her. So maybe, just maybe, this visit would work out. She'd act like herself, as much as she knew who that was, and she'd get to know Chuck's family. It would work out.

Sarah set down her gun and pressed the button to bring forward her last target. She pulled it down and examined it closely as she pulled off her ear protectors.

"Not bad."

It took all her training not to jump at the sound of Casey's voice. For a man of his size, and a NSA agent to boot, he could be very stealthy.

"Thanks," she said, looking at him curiously. Casey was hard to impress, especially when it came to marksmanship.

He stepped into the booth next to hers and set down a wide variety of weaponry on the counter before him. "Meeting the parents got you itchy?"

Sarah raised an eyebrow and Casey grunted. "Like I don't know you're goin' to meet Bartowski's family."

The NSA was a bit more lax than the CIA when it came to agent fraternization, Sarah knew. But just as she was familiar with the NSA guidelines, Casey knew the CIA's. He knew that as long as they didn't flaunt their relationship or let it affect their work, the CIA would turn a blind eye. Technically, however, they were still breaking the rules by having an actual relationship and Casey would be within his rights to report them to their superiors.

She supposed that Casey had automatically assumed that they were going on vacation together, since they put in their leave requests for the same period. Hopefully, the CIA would consider it a coincidence, and since she had taken precautions when she had booked their airline tickets, there wasn't any evidence that they were taking the same flights. But she didn't know how Casey had guessed what they would be doing on their time off.

"Actually, it's his sister and his best friend," Sarah said, starting to clean her gun to give her hands something to do. "Neither of Chuck's parents are in the picture."

"Yeah, so I heard," Casey said. He glanced at her, his eyes measuring her up. "You two screw up, I'm gonna have to send word up the chain."

"I know, but we're not going to screw up," Sarah said firmly.

Casey snorted. "Everyone talks and everyone in a relationship screws up."

"Not everyone," Sarah protested. "There's the Turners."

"They've been divorced twice already," Casey retorted.

Sarah wracked her brain, pausing in the midst of reassembling her gun. "Beckman and Montgomery?"

"These are the best examples you can come up with?" Casey asked, smirking. "Not givin' you and Bartowski much hope, huh?"

She slid the last piece of her gun in place and shoved it in the back of her jeans. "I shouldn't even be talking to you about this, but . . . we've only been dating for a short while and with our jobs, it's best to take things slow."

"Right," Casey said, drawing out the word. "Slow. By meeting his sister, the one he thinks the sun rises and sets on."

Letting herself get baited into an argument with Casey, more than she already had, would be a bad idea. Sarah lifted her chin. "I have work to do. Enjoy your target practice." She turned on her heel and stalked out of the shooting range, determined to put plenty of space between herself and Casey.

XXX

The few days remaining until their trip passed quickly for Sarah. She focused on getting caught up on her paperwork and reading as many reports as she could, gaining as much intel as she could about Fulcrum.

The more she found out about the organization, the more concerned Sarah got. Not just because it was a terrorist group made up of rogue intelligence agents, or because it had gotten the better of the CIA too often over the last six months. No, what worried her the most was their goal: to create an Intersect of their own.

How Fulcrum learned about the Intersect was one of the things that the CIA was focusing on. It wasn't surprising to Sarah. The vast number of people who were aware of the Intersect had always seemed dangerous. It wasn't just the agents and the scientists within the CIA and the NSA that knew about the Intersect; there had been so many candidates at Project Omaha, and with that many smart, ambitious people, rumors and gossip about the reason for this special training course were rampant. Even within organizations like the CIA and NSA that prided themselves on secrecy and obedience, it was too likely that information about the Intersect would fall into the wrong hands.

Over the last six months, Fulcrum had quickly become the primary target for most intelligence organizations. But since so little was known about the terrorists, the CIA had found themselves behind the eight ball. Meanwhile, Director Graham and the rest of the higher-ups had taken the exact wrong approach to this problem, in Sarah's opinion. Rather than mobilizing and learning all they could about Fulcrum, they were trying to determine just what agents had turned, and what they had told Fulcrum about the Intersect.

It was important to figure that out, Sarah knew. But if they could find Fulcrum and eliminate them, the key figures would be revealed. She'd strongly argued this point with Graham in a private conference call only for him to bite her head off. So she'd chosen to research a different angle: learning all she could about the Intersect.

If Sarah was honest with herself, she had to admit that she had a personal reason to focus on this issue. Knowing almost nothing about the experiments on Chuck's brain made her feel particularly paranoid. How could they relax, never knowing if the Intersect would take over Chuck and make him into someone he wasn't? Just how trustworthy were the people working on the Intersect? The CIA had upgraded the Intersect once, providing updates on the intelligence files stored in Chuck's head. Fulcrum had already easily learned about the Intersect and seen its advantages; what was to stop them from attempting to sabotage the only current human Intersect?

A stabbing pain in her hand made Sarah realize she was squeezing the mouse with all her strength. She let go and leaned back in her chair, rubbing her hand ruefully.

Casey would say she was going soft: getting all gooey over her boyfriend getting hurt. And yes, that was feeding her worries. But more than that, she didn't want to have to fight a Fulcrum that had their own Intersect, not when they could have been stopped.

If she was a pessimistic person, she would say it was just a matter of time until Fulcrum had a working Intersect. They clearly had gained too much knowledge to be discouraged by any initial failures. They were going to create their own Intersect. Sarah was hoping that wasn't true, hoping that Fulcrum would make some mistake that would destroy them, but she felt disheartened when she considered how far they had come in just a few months and how little had been done to stop them.

"Sarah? Hey, Sarah?"

"In here, Chuck!" she called out softly, leaning around the computer monitor that blocked her from view.

Chuck smiled widely at her and walked over to the computer station, perching gingerly on the edge of the desk. "You know, I think we're officially on vacation now. It's after five o'clock."

"I know," she said, giving him a smile in return as she started cleaning up her desk and shutting down her computer. "Just making sure everything's done before we leave."

"Casey will be holding down the fort. He'll probably be happy that we're not here, with all our 'lady feelings'," Chuck said breezily.

Sarah chuckled. "You do know he lumps you in as someone with lady feelings, right?"

"Yep, but I don't mind." His leg was bouncing like a Mexican jumping bean.

She glanced at his leg, then up at him. "Excited?" She stood up, sliding some papers into various file folders.

"I sure am," he said, reaching out and wrapping an arm around her waist. "I'm going on vacation with you."

Sarah looked at him, soaking up his wide-eyed happiness. She'd noticed over the last day or so that Chuck had been much more tactile than normal, often reaching out to hold her hand or touch her back. Even in the offices, where he normally behaved very professionally, he'd not passed up opportunities to touch her.

It would seem he had been getting into a vacation mood as their trip approached. It was adorable. And she liked when he touched her. But it did make it hard for her to think about missions and Fulcrum and stopping terrorists.

Letting the folders drop to the desk, she moved closer to him, sliding an arm around his neck. "I'm looking forward to vacation, too."

He smiled back happily and kissed her softly. "Then stop working. Our plane leaves first thing tomorrow morning, and you still haven't finished packing."

"And how do you know that, Agent Bartowski?" she asked him, leaning into him and gazing up at him. She gave him a slow smile. "Have you been going through my suitcase?"

Chuck swallowed, his ears turning red. "N-no . . . I just noticed that your suitcase, it was lying open on the floor of your room, and I only saw that because you hadn't closed the door to your room all the way and I couldn't help noticing . . ."

Sarah pressed her face against his neck, trying to hide her soft laughter. "Breathe, Chuck," she said.

"Oh," he said, the tension flowing out of him. "You're not really mad at me."

She looked up at him and shook her head. "No, I'm not mad at you. You're right, actually; I do need to finish packing."

"Do you need any help with that?" he asked, smiling softly at her. "I mean, it's video game night with Morgan, but I can skip it since I'll be seeing him in twenty-four hours."

That smile of his, the shy, sweet one, was going to be the death of her someday, she thought. But because she was Sarah Walker, CIA agent, and not a teenage girl, she held back the sigh and blush and just smiled back at him.

"No, I'll be fine," she said, quickly kissing his cheek before stepping away from him. "Go enjoy your video games."

He grinned at her, backing up towards the stairs to the main floor of the villa. "Just wait until you see me and Morgan playing in the same room. You'll regret encouraging video game night then."

She just grinned at him until he climbed up the stairs and disappeared from her view. She took the time to sort the files, making them easily accessible to Casey while they were gone, and then she headed up the stairs to her own room to finish packing.

There were still some final clothes decisions to make, not to mention picking the book she'd take with her. Chuck had encouraged her to read more for pleasure, but so far she hadn't really found a style or author she really liked. But the exploration was fun, and she was hoping that this vacation would give her more time for fun.

At that thought, Sarah couldn't help smiling. A spy, thinking about fun that didn't involve missions or weapons. Maybe she had changed more than she thought.

XXX

Chuck had spent the last hour of their flight to Los Angeles practically bouncing in his seat, not to mention talking a mile a minute. She didn't know where he was getting all this energy, because while she had slept some on the flight from Rome to D.C., he had told her he hadn't gotten any rest.

Their layover in D.C. was to help them adjust to the jet lag and eliminate any possible suspicions in Chuck's family, since Ellie and Morgan thought they worked on the East Coast. With six hours to kill, Chuck had persuaded her to go to the Air & Space Museum's newly-opened annex, located near Dulles Airport. Although she had her pilot's license, flying was more a means to an ends for Sarah. Chuck, however, was completely enthralled by the aircraft at the museum, rattling off facts and figures the whole time.

"Did you get those from the Intersect?" she whispered to him as he was explaining just what made the Lockheed SR-71 Blackbird the fastest jet ever.

Chuck shook his head and grinned at her. "Nope. I just like planes."

Sarah smiled back and made a mental note to look into renting a plane and taking him flying on his next birthday.

Now that they were nearly to LAX, though, Chuck seemed ready to burst with excitement. She reached out and took his hand, holding it tightly. Her movement cut him off mid-word and he turned to look at her.

"Sarah? Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," she said, smiling at him. "I'm just worried that you're going to fall asleep ten minutes after we get there, once all the adrenaline wears off."

Chuck laughed. "Nah, I'll get some Red Bull and be fine."

"I don't know how you can drink that stuff," Sarah said, wrinkling her nose.

"Because it keeps you awake," Chuck said, kissing the bridge of her nose.

This was a side of Chuck she'd never seen before. Silly, charming, romantic. Not that he wasn't any of those things normally, but it was like he had turned up the volume on those traits. With a big smile, she pushed up the armrest and cuddled against his side.

He wrapped an arm around her shoulders. "How are you doing?"

"I got some sleep earlier. I'm okay."

"I'm not talking about that," Chuck said. "You're not . . . I know you're Sarah Walker and you're awesome, but you're not feeling nervous, are you?"

She took a deep breath. "I . . . I just have never done this. Met the family of someone I'm involved with. And I know how important Ellie and Morgan are to you, so I don't want them to not like me."

"They're gonna love you, Sarah," Chuck said, his eyes full of sincerity as he gazed at her. "I've done nothing but talk about you and they can't wait to meet you."

It was remarkable, how a few words from him could put her fears at ease and make everything seem okay. She gazed at him and then smiled slowly at him.

"Are you sure? Maybe they just said that to make you stop talking about me."

He laughed. "Believe me, they're not that polite. Especially not Morgan."

"I'll guess I'll see that for myself soon," Sarah said, resting a hand on his knee.

Chuck smiled so widely, there were crinkles at the corner of his eyes. "Yeah, you will."

The engines of the plane changed pitch, causing Sarah to look up. "We're getting ready to land." She pulled away from Chuck and pushed down the armrest.

"That's pretty impressive, knowing that from the sound of the engines," Chuck said as he tightened his seat belt.

Sarah shrugged and smiled at him, then reached out and held his hand through landing. The feel of his hand helped keep her mind from going through a sequence of worst-case scenarios, beginning with Ellie and Morgan both hating her at first sight and going all the way to one of them being an enemy agent that she'd have to take out.

By the time the plane had reached the gate, Sarah had pushed aside those worries and focused on Chuck. Being this close to his family had made his energy level skyrocket, which should be impossible given how wound up he was. She had a sudden understanding why women with toddlers always looked so exhausted. She was also grateful that her legs were long enough to keep up with Chuck as he hurried through the terminal.

"Ellie said they'd meet us at baggage claim," Chuck said, weaving his way through the crowds onto a down escalator.

She nodded and kept holding his hand. "Right."

He threw her a quick, bright smile before stepping off the escalator, his head moving back and forth quickly as he looked around. Suddenly, there was a loud whoop, and a woman with long brown hair threw herself at Chuck.

Sarah tensed for a moment, until the woman's resemblance to Chuck made her realize that this must be Ellie Bartowski.

"Chuck!" the woman repeated, hugging him tightly. "Oh, it's good to see you."

Chuck hugged his sister, closing his eyes for a moment. "You, too, El." The tenderness in his voice made Sarah's heart skip a beat.

Ellie pulled back and looked him over, her eyes sweeping over him. "Wow, you've been working out! You could give Devon a run for his money."

He laughed. "Nah, I doubt that." Chuck turned and held his hand out towards a tall, blond man who looked like a catalog model. "It's good to see you, Devon."

"Chuckster!" the man boomed, taking Chuck's hand and pulling him into a hug. "It's been too long." Devon patted Chuck's back and Sarah couldn't help grinning.

Ellie turned to Sarah and smiled. "My boyfriend's the affectionate type. I'm Ellie-you must be Sarah!"

Sarah took a deep breath, then fixed a smile on her face. "I am. It's so great to finally meet you, Ellie, after hearing so much about you."

Although Ellie had green eyes and straight hair to Chuck's brown eyes and curls, there was no mistaking that she was his sister. The way her smile widened, just like Chuck's, was proof enough for Sarah.

Ellie gave her a quick hug. "Believe me, all Chuck does is talk about you. I'm so glad I told him to make a move on you."

She couldn't help laughing softly at Ellie's quip. "I guess you don't let him forget that."

With a grin, Ellie pulled back. "Nope. That's what big sisters are for."

"I'm an only child, so I'll take your word for it," Sarah said, feeling more at ease. Like Chuck, Ellie had the natural ability to make people feel at ease.

Chuck was looking around. "Where's Morgan?"

"Oh, I'm sorry, Chuck," Ellie said, her voice not sounding all that regretful. "He had to work, but he'll be meeting us at the apartment."

"Morgan, work?" Chuck asked, sounding equal parts amused and surprised.

Devon slung an arm around Ellie's shoulders. "The little bearded man is making his contribution to society."

"Please tell me there isn't a bright orange jumpsuit involved," Chuck said.

Ellie laughed. "Try a green shirt. He's working at the Buy More."

Chuck's face brightened. "Oh, yeah? Good for him! Nice to see he's dealing with being fired by Underpants, Etc. And now I know who to talk to about new gaming equipment."

"You're not gonna spend another trip home playing video games with Morgan," Ellie said firmly.

He rolled his eyes and grinned at her. "Of course not, El. I've got Sarah." Chuck looked at her and smiled, then held his hand out to her. She took it and smiled back at him.

"So this is the mystery woman!" Devon said, smiling at her.

Sarah nodded and shook Devon's hand, who immediately started talking about getting Chuck and Sarah to join him on a ten-mile hike while they were visiting. Ellie started lobbying for a chance to go shopping with Sarah and for all of them to have a double date one night.

To think she had been worrying about this, she thought as she listened to Chuck talk with his sister and her boyfriend. If first impressions were accurate, Ellie and Devon were two of the nicest, warmest, most engaging people she had ever met. Normally, this would make her feel like there was bound to be something wrong, but she didn't get that sense from them at all.

Maybe this visit would work out even better than she had hoped.

End, Chapter 2


	3. Chapter 3

Chuck had to admit, the visit had started even better than he had expected. After their arrival in LA last night and meeting Ellie and Devon, they had all come back to Ellie's apartment in Echo Park. They had ordered pizza and Morgan had joined them. His best friend had taken an immediate liking to Sarah.

"Dude, she's even hotter than you said and she really likes you," Morgan had said when they were both getting drinks after dinner. "She looks at you like I look at my X Box."

Chuck couldn't help grinning. "I don't know if it's quite like that, but it's pretty great."

Morgan grinned back and clinked his grape soda against Chuck's Red Bull. "To Chuck Bartowski, King of the Nerds."

"I actually think that's Joss Whedon," Chuck pointed out.

"Does Joss Whedon have the world's hottest girlfriend?"

"Um . . . I think he's married," Chuck said, getting lost in thought for a moment before shaking his head. "I'm so glad you like Sarah."

"Of course I do. I mean, she's something else, and even though she seems to only have a passing familiarity with Star Wars, at least she's not trying to say that Star Trek is better." Morgan snorted, his disdain for Trekkies clear.

With a laugh, Chuck looked over at Sarah, who was deep in conversation with Ellie. "You like her, Ellie seems to like her . . . that's all I could ask for."

Morgan sighed softly. "Do you think Ellie and Devon are growing apart any?"

"The crush is still going strong, huh?" Chuck commented, taking a sip of Red Bull. "Sorry, buddy." He patted Morgan on the shoulder, then went back over to the table. He slipped into his chair next to Sarah and set down the bottle of water she had requested. She smiled at him as he took her hand.

"Hi," she said, squeezing his hand. "Are you sure the Red Bull is a good idea?"

"Do you know how much of a tolerance I've built up over the years?" he asked, moving his chair closer to hers. "One can is nothing. And I'm only having one tonight."

She nodded, then leaned in towards him, speaking softly. "Your family is really nice."

"Thanks," he said, lowering his voice as well. "I'm really glad everyone's hitting it off."

"If Ellie and Devon's plans hold up, we'll be pretty busy while we're here and spending a lot of time together," she said with a smile.

"Devon's pretty enthusiastic. I don't know about you, but I don't think I want to do a ten-mile hike," he said, grinning at her.

Sarah chuckled. "Maybe." She looked at him curiously. "What were you hoping to do?"

"Ah, well, there's a little something I call the Chuck Bartowski Memorial Tour." Chuck grinned at her and finished his Red Bull.

"Is that so?" Sarah asked, raising her eyebrows and grinning. "Tell me more."

"I'm glad you asked," Chuck said, returning her grin. "I thought we'd drive around and see some of my old stomping grounds. The mean streets that I came from."

"I thought you said you grew up in Encino?" Sarah asked, her voice amused.

"Hey, the suburbs are a tough place!" he said, trying to remain serious but failing. He laughed. "Okay, so it's not exactly The Godfather Part II, but if you were interested, I thought we could visit a few places that are important to me."

"Of course I'm interested," Sarah said, gazing at him. "I'd love to take the Chuck Bartowski Memorial Tour."

He grinned widely at her, then leaned in and kissed her softly.

A round of applause and a balled-up napkin bouncing off his head pulled Chuck out of the kiss, and he looked at his family. "Really? Did we all just go back to middle school?"

"I never left," Morgan said, prompting Ellie to roll her eyes and stand up.

"Sorry to break this up, but both Devon and I have shifts tomorrow. Chuck, I'm really sorry I couldn't get off on your first day back . . ."

Chuck hopped up and hugged her. "Hey, it's okay! I've got it all worked out. I'm gonna take Sarah around tomorrow, show her the sights."

Ellie hugged him back and then leaned back to look at him. "It's really okay?"

"Completely," he reassured her.

His older sister smiled. "I'll ride in with Devon and you can take my car. But let's not have a repeat of the Great Volkswagen Golf Event of 1998, hmm?"

"It was barely scratched!" Chuck protested.

"That's what you always say, Chuck," Ellie said with a grin as she collected the empty pizza boxes.

"I swear . . ." He turned to look at Sarah. "I'm a good driver, you know that."

She nodded solemnly. "Yes, you are. Very . . . cautious," she teased him with a grin.

Devon chuckled. "Our Chuckster's no speed demon." He stood up and helped Ellie, then with an exchange of good nights, the two doctors retired.

Chuck looked at Morgan. "See you tomorrow? I thought I'd take Sarah by the store, show her where I used to work."

"Sure thing, man. I'm on eleven to seven. If you come by around two, we can grab lunch together. They just opened a Weinerlicious in the shopping center." Morgan sighed. "Oh, how I love Herr Weiner's delicious meat products."

"Um, okay," Chuck said, walking Morgan to the door. "I guess a lot of people love German hot dogs and all the sauerkraut you can eat."

"You got it," Morgan said cheerfully. "G'night, Sarah!"

Sarah waved to Morgan and Chuck closed the door behind his friend. Then he walked over to his girlfriend and wrapped his arms around her. "I had a great time tonight."

"Me, too," Sarah said softly, brushing a light kiss over his lips.

He started to deepen the kiss, only for a huge yawn to escape him. Sarah grinned. "And now the crash."

Chuck ran a hand over his face. "Yeah, I guess so. Are you tired, too?"

"I could sleep," Sarah said with a smile.

"Then let's go to bed," he said, moving away and taking her hand. He lead her back to the guest bedroom, and soon they had both fallen into bed.

XXX

It was still early. The sun had just started rising, and the apartment was quiet. But Chuck was awake, because he had much better things to do than sleep.

Like marvel at how beautiful Sarah was in the morning sunlight. Especially on a day like today, after the first night she had stayed with him.

She was sleeping on her side, facing him with her hands folded under her cheek. Her face was soft and slack from sleep, giving her a peaceful expression that he'd rarely seen. With the pale yellow rays of sunlight inching over her, she looked like Sleeping Beauty to him. To someone who didn't know her, Sarah was a Disney Princess brought to life with her fair skin, blonde hair, and big blue eyes. Yet her looks were just part of her appeal.

Chuck couldn't deny that there were still days that he had to pinch himself. To have a beautiful, amazing woman like Sarah, it was like a dream come true. But the time he had spent with her made him realize that Sarah, like everyone else, had her own doubts and insecurities. She did her best to hide them so well that most people wouldn't even realize it. But he was one of the very few people that she let get a peek into her inner self. And that was what made her beautiful to him: getting a chance to see the real Sarah, not the polished Agent Walker.

He'd love to wake her with a kiss, but he knew that Sarah was grumpy if someone woke her up-she was not a morning person. So instead, he moved closer to her and closed his eyes, falling into a light doze.

When he felt Sarah moving, he propped himself up on one elbow to watch her wake up. First her eyelids fluttered slightly, then she yawned and scrunched up her eyes before she stretched her arms above her head. When she finally opened her eyes, Chuck smiled widely at her.

"You waking up is the most adorable thing I've ever seen."

Sarah flushed, pushing herself up on one arm. "Were you watching me sleep?"

"Only for a minute, I promise."

She ran a hand through her hair, then rolled onto her back, gazing up at him. In a soft voice, she said, "I suppose it's because you've never gotten to see me wake up."

Chuck gently rubbed her side. "Yeah, but hey, you're right about following the rules." He frowned. "I haven't been pushing you about that, have I?"

"Not in the way you think," Sarah said, running her hand over the arm that was holding his head up. "Just by being Chuck, you make me want to stay. But it's not the smart thing to do."

He nodded. "Yeah." Smiling softly, he lowered his head and kissed her. "But we're on vacation now. Away from the CIA."

Sarah smiled back at him, sliding her arm around his neck. "We are."

"So maybe we should prolong this whole waking up together thing . . ." he said, leaning in to kiss her jaw.

"What about the Chuck Bartowski Memorial Tour?" she said, sounding like she was trying to be firm but failing miserably.

Chuck brushed his nose against her cheek. "We can start it any time."

He could feel Sarah on the verge of melting when a crisp knock on their bedroom door killed the mood.

"Hey, Chuckster! Wheatgrass shakes for you and Sarah, in the kitchen! Have a good day, you two-I'll see you tonight!"

Devon's footsteps faded as he walked away from the door, unaware of what he had interrupted. Chuck looked at Sarah and sighed.

"No chance of me telling you we could ignore that?"

"Nope," Sarah said regretfully. "It's our first day, and your sister's going to work and won't see you all day."

"You're right. You're always right," he said, kissing her cheek and sitting up. "Someday, I'm going to be right."

Sarah smiled at him as she got out of bed. "You're right most of the time." She gathered her clothes and toiletries and headed to the bathroom, leaving Chuck to face Devon. He took a deep breath at the thought of wheatgrass shakes, then headed to the kitchen.

Ellie smiled at him sympathetically from her spot at the breakfast bar. "Don't worry, I already poured out the shakes when Devon went to get dressed. He feels very strongly about the beneficial powers of wheatgrass."

"I can tell that." Chuck poured himself a cup of coffee and sat down next to her. He looked at her as he sipped. "So . . ."

"You want to know what I think of Sarah?"

He smiled sheepishly. "Yeah. A lot."

His sister reached out and patted his hand. "I know you really wanted me to like Jill, but I never thought she was the right girl for you." She looked at him for a long moment, then she smiled. "Sarah seems perfect."

"Really? I mean, I think she's perfect, because she's smart and strong and really beautiful, and she likes me, but . . ."

"You don't want to get burned again," Ellie said. "But I don't think you have to worry about that."

Chuck couldn't help smiling brightly at her.

Ellie squeezed his hand. "Whenever you look at her, you light up. And so does she." She got up and kissed his cheek. "I'll see you later. You and Sarah have fun."

He nodded and smiled a little. "Thanks, sis." As Ellie got ready to leave, he looked down at his coffee cup, turning over her words. Finding out that Ellie liked Sarah, that she thought they had a good relationship . . . it was nice to hear. Because what he felt for Sarah was different from the crushes he'd had as a teenager and even what he felt for Jill. It wasn't about comparing Jill and Sarah, not really. He just knew that with Sarah, he felt strong. Like he could do anything, be anything, because she believed in him.

Chuck smiled widely and got up, pouring a cup of coffee for Sarah as well as topping off his, then carried the mugs to their room. They had a big day ahead of them, and few things made Sarah happier than coffee first thing in the morning.

XXX

Walking into the Buy More was a bit like going back in time. The store still looked the same, complete with the same kooky workers and the usually-absent Big Mike. But there were a few differences. One was Morgan working there as a green shirt. And the other was Sarah, holding his hand and walking in with him.

"So I worked here during my senior year of high school and then every summer while I was in college," Chuck said once they were inside the Buy More.

Sarah nodded. "And what did you do?"

"I started off as a salesman, but they pretty quickly moved me to the Nerd Herd," Chuck said as he lead her over to the Nerd Herd desk. "So I was helping people when they had problems with their phones or computers or whatever, and I'd go out and install software or home theaters for customers."

Before Sarah could say anything, Chuck got a blast from the past in the form of his two least-favorite Nerd Herders.

"Charles. You've finally returned, tail between your legs, to once again take up your place among us, eh?" Lester leered at him, full of smug superiority

"Um, not exactly, Lester," Chuck said, feeling incredibly grateful that Lester was wrong. "I'm just visiting with my girlfriend and going to lunch with Morgan."

Sarah was looking like she wished she had a gun or her knives, especially when Jeff edged closer to them. "You're a very lucky woman, dating Chuck," he said in a monotone.

"Oh, look, Morgan-Morgan is just over there!" Chuck said quickly. "Good to see you, Jeff and Lester." He practically dragged Sarah away, heading towards the home theater room.

"Who are those men?" Sarah asked, sounding equal parts curious and horrified.

"Jeff and Lester-they worked on the Nerd Herd desk with me."

"You actually worked with them?" Sarah asked, looking amazed. She wrinkled her forehead, looking lost in thought. "What was that line from Star Wars? 'You're stronger than you look'?"

Chuck couldn't help laughing. "It's 'You're braver than I thought', and . . . well, they're not that bad."

"Oh, yes, they are," Morgan said, joining them at the entrance to the home theater room. "But you should see Jeff play Mystery Crisper. And Lester's great at getting rid of customers when we're in the middle of a video game marathon-"

Sarah blinked, seemingly at a loss for words.

"Anyway!" Chuck interrupted. "How's it going, buddy?"

"Great, great, Chuck! I shoulda started working here years ago-why didn't you tell me that you don't have to do any work here?"

"I did plenty of work here," Chuck asked, raising his eyebrows.

"Yeah, well, that's you, Chuck. Me, I feel like I've finally found where I belong," Morgan said. "But where are my manners?" He turned and grinned at Sarah.

Chuck looked at his girlfriend and felt a wave of sympathy. Sarah definitely looked like she didn't know what to think right now. Chuck squeezed her hand, and Sarah looked up at him and managed a small smile. Then she turned to Morgan.

"Actually, I have a big favor to ask of you, Morgan."

Morgan's eyes widened. "You do?"

Sarah nodded and smiled at his best friend. "Yeah. Chuck's birthday is coming up and I don't know what his gift should be. I thought his best friend would be a great person to ask for help."

"You don't have to get me anything for my birthday, Sarah . . ." Chuck protested.

"Yes, I do," she said, grinning at him.

"Yes, she does," Morgan agreed. "Let's walk and talk, Sarah," he said, pulling her away from Chuck and out onto the sales floor.

Chuck shook his head. Sarah probably didn't know what she was getting herself in for: Morgan was bound to convince her to buy something too expensive, but Sarah was smart enough not to get taken.

He walked around the store, keeping a wide berth between himself and Sarah and Morgan, not to mention Jeff and Lester. He ended up flipping through Game Informer, nearly finishing the issue by the time Sarah walked up to him, holding a green Buy More bag.

"Ready, Chuck?"

"Yeah, I just want to buy this," he said, gesturing to the magazine. "It was really nice of you to buy something from Morgan."

She shrugged and smiled. "I thought it couldn't hurt."

"Believe me, Morgan can use the commission," he said, smiling back at her. "Meet you at the front door once I pay for this? We'll go have lunch with Morgan."

Sarah nodded and headed towards the doors and Chuck headed over to the registers.

"Chuck, Chuck!" Morgan skidded over to him. "Sarah is fantastic. She might not be a nerd, but she's funny and smart and does she like you!"

Chuck felt a wide smile spreading on his face. Trust Sarah to charm Morgan, without even realizing it. "So you approve?"

"Approve?" Morgan asked. "I more than approve. I think you need to snap up Sarah before it's too late."

"What?" Chuck said, hearing his voice crack.

"You two belong together, Chuck, and a girl like that doesn't come along every day!" Morgan was practically bubbling over with enthusiasm.

He was grateful that the cashier asked him for his method of payment, which gave him a few moments to think. It was true that Sarah made him really happy, and their relationship seemed to be in good shape. But making things more serious . . . it seemed too early to be thinking about that.

"Thanks, buddy," Chuck said, turning to face Morgan. "I'm glad that you like Sarah. C'mon, let's go get some lunch-but, um, ix-nay on the snapping Sarah up stuff, okay?"

"Oh, of course, Chuck! You'll wanna sweep her off her feet in your own special way." Morgan gave him a knowing grin.

"Right, right," Chuck said, taking his magazine and walking with his best friend to meet Sarah at the doors.

XXX

The next few days just zipped by. Before he knew it, Ellie and Devon were taking Chuck and Sarah out to dinner on the final night of their vacation. The dinner got started a bit awkwardly when Chuck shared the nickname that he and Morgan had come up with for Devon.

"Captain Awesome?" Devon laughed. "That's awesome, Chuck."

"Really? Captain Awesome?" Ellie asked, scrunching up her face. "Devon's got flaws like anyone else."

"Name one," Chuck challenged her, refilling his and Sarah's wine glasses.

Ellie looked stumped for a moment, then blurted out, "The wheatgrass shakes!"

Chuck snorted and Sarah let out a soft laugh, while Devon looked at each of them. "You guys don't know what you're missing."

"And we're grateful for that," Ellie said, her eyes dancing.

"You are a hard woman, Ellie Bartowski," Devon said with a wide grin, leaning in to kiss her.

Chuck couldn't help smiling at the sight of Ellie so happy. Devon really seemed to have mended his ways from last year's short-lived douchebag phase.

Sarah leaned against him. "Penny for your thoughts."

"Oh, they're not worth that much," he said, gazing down at her. He lowered his voice. "I'm just glad that Ellie and Devon are so happy together."

She nodded. "They're a great couple."

Before Chuck could agree with her, Devon cleared his throat loudly. "Excuse me, but I have something to say."

"Devon?" Ellie asked curiously, a hint of worry flickering in her eyes.

"It's okay, babe-I just have something to ask you," Devon said, looking rather nervous. "Since Chuck's here, it seemed like the right time."

Ellie looked both confused and worried. Chuck's eyes moved back and forth between his sister and Devon, wondering what was going on.

Devon turned and faced Ellie, taking one of her hands. "Ellie, ever since you gave me a second chance, I've known just how lucky I am. This last year has been the best in my life, and so . . . I want every year to be the best year of my life." He reached into the pocket of his jacket and pulled out a small jewelry box.

Everyone's eyes went wide at the sight of the small box, but Ellie looked positively shocked. She stared at Devon as he pushed aside his chair and kneeled in front of her. He popped open the box and said softly, "Eleanor Faye Bartowski, will you marry me?"

There were tears in his sister's eyes as she nodded, then hugged Devon tightly. "Yes!"

Chuck felt like his face was going to split in half from the size of his smile. "Congratulations, you guys."

Ellie pulled away from Devon and quickly moved around the table, hugging Chuck tightly. "Thank you!"

"Hope it's okay with you, Chuck, that I didn't talk to you first as Ellie's only family."

"No, no, it's fine, Devon," Chuck said, feeling a stab at Devon's painful truth. Ever since the disappearance of their parents, Ellie and Chuck had only had each other. They had gotten through a lot of hard times together, and now they were sharing the good times. Yet it would never stop hurting that their parents had left them.

The weight of Sarah's hand on his arm drew him back to the present. He looked at her and gave her a small smile. She smiled back, although she looked a bit ill-at-ease to be surrounded by this unexpected celebration. Chuck wrapped his arm around her and pulled her close. "This is a surprise."

"Yeah," Sarah said, looking at him. "Are you okay? You seem a little sad."

Chuck took a deep breath. His natural instinct, when it came to his family, was to not talk about it. But perhaps it was time to get over that habit. "We can talk about it later," he said.

Sarah nodded and kissed his cheek, then turned to Ellie and Devon. "How about some champagne to celebrate?"

The rest of dinner passed with stories shared and wine drunk. When they left the restaurant, in response to Chuck's silent request, Sarah drew Devon into conversation as they walked down the street towards Ellie's car.

That left Chuck with Ellie. He rested his hand on her upper back. "Happy, sis?"

Ellie beamed. "I am. I'm getting married!"

He smiled back at her. "I'm really glad, Ellie. You deserve everything that would make you happy."

She leaned against his side. "Thanks, Chuck." She looked up at him. "You were quiet after Devon's big question."

"Yeah . . ." he said, looking down at his shoes. "I was just thinking about what Devon said, about how I'm your only family."

"You're the family that matters, Chuck," Ellie said. "You're the one who's always been here for me."

"So you wouldn't want to see Mom or Dad again?" he asked her, looking at her curiously.

Ellie sighed. "I'm not saying that at all. Of course I'd like to see them. To have Dad walk me down the aisle at my wedding . . ." She sighed softly. "He's been gone for over ten years. I haven't had any contact with him for nearly two years. I always knew that one day, Dad would be gone for good. It's one of the first things I realized when we were growing up. But it's still hard to think that he doesn't want to be with us."

Her eyes were bright with tears when she looked up at him. "And I still would give anything for him to just . . . to be here."

Chuck gazed at Ellie. She had been nearly eighteen when their father had left for good, leaving her responsible for her teenage brother as she started college. Even with all that their dad had put them through, Ellie still wanted him to be part of her wedding. That made Chuck so proud of her. He stopped walking and pulled her into a hug.

"I wish he could be here, too, El."

Ellie pressed her face against his shoulder, then sniffed and rubbed his back. "Yeah. At least I've got the world's best brother."

He felt a stab of guilt at her words. Was he really such a good brother when he couldn't tell her the truth about himself? That he had a computer in his brain and he was a member of a secretive government agency?

It had been drummed into his head that keeping his loved ones in the dark kept them safe. He still wasn't sure he believed that, but he'd agreed to go along with it when he got the Intersect. But perhaps he could find a way to soothe his guilt by doing something special for Ellie.

"C'mon, let's catch up with Sarah and Devon," Ellie said, taking his arm and pulling him down the street. He let her set the pace as he considered an idea.

What if he used his CIA resources to try and find their father, to have him here for Ellie's wedding? That way, he could give her this gift, since he couldn't tell her what he really did.

By the time they had reached the car, his mind was working on the best ways to find his father. He gave Sarah a distracted smile and kept thinking on the way back to Ellie and Devon's apartment.

XXX

"Chuck?"

With a start, Chuck realized that he hadn't said a word to Sarah since they had left the restaurant. They'd gone right to their room when they arrived back at the apartment, giving Ellie and Devon some time alone. While he was lost in thought, he'd changed out of his suit and into a t-shirt and sweat pants. Sarah had already changed into one of his t-shirts and was sitting cross-legged on the bed, looking worried.

"Is everything all right? You've seemed really out of it."

Chuck shook out his head. "Yeah, sorry, I'm sorry. I just started thinking about things and I stopped noticing anything else."

"We both know, with our training, that's not true."

"Maybe for you," he said, managing a smile as he sat down next to her.

She nudged his shoulder with her own, then took his hand. "What's going on?"

He took a deep breath. "I know you had some kind of file on me, when you met me in Mexico . . ."

Sarah must have been surprised by this line of discussion, because it took her a moment to respond. "I did have some basic background info on you."

"What did it say about my parents?" he asked, gazing at her.

"Um . . . the whereabouts of both of them was unknown." Sarah seemed to be choosing her words carefully. Given how observant she was, she must know that his parents were a sore spot.

He took a deep breath. "That's pretty accurate, although there's a lot of details that were left out."

"Does this connect with what happened tonight? Devon proposing to Ellie?"

Chuck nodded. "Yeah. It just got me thinking . . . maybe I should try and find them. Starting with my dad."

"Are you sure about that, Chuck?" she asked, looking at him. Sarah nibbled a bit on her lower lip. It was her only tell; she did it when she was nervous about something.

"I know-but the thing is, I don't know anything." Chuck turned on the bed to face her, still holding her hand tightly. "He left right after I turned thirteen, and yeah, he had always been a little strange, and he had disappeared before, but he had always come back. Except this last time."

Sarah rubbed her thumb against his hand. "But if you go digging into this, you might find out things you'd rather you didn't know. Things that would change your memory of him."

"Sarah, you just don't . . ." He stopped and sighed. "Do you know what it's like, wondering about someone? Eventually, you learn to live with the absence, but . . . it's always there, in the back of your mind: where is my father? Why did he leave us?" He gazed at her. "I think that I need to know. For myself. For Ellie. And maybe I could find him! Bring him home, so he could be here for Ellie's wedding."

She took a moment to speak. "Chuck, it's been over ten years. The chances of actually finding your father . . ."

Chuck frowned. "Why are you doing this? Coming up with all these reasons I shouldn't try?"

"I . . ." Sarah looked down. "I just don't want to see you get hurt."

"That's the thing, Sarah-I am hurt. I'm always gonna carry around this pain inside me. The hurt can't stop me from living my life; that's something I learned in therapy. But it doesn't mean I can ignore it forever." Chuck lifted her chin and searched her face, trying to make her understand.

There was still so much about Sarah's past that he didn't know. He knew she had been recruited out of high school into the CIA, sent to Harvard by them, and groomed for the last six years by Director Graham. But before that point, most of her history was still incomplete for him. There were a few details she'd let slip, like learning how to throw knives before she became a CIA agent, but she never talked about family, her childhood, or anything like that.

So he didn't know why she objected to his searching for his father. Why this conversation seemed to be affecting her so much. Maybe it had something to do with her own family, or she had some kind of experience with this. But she hadn't told him and he wouldn't push her to talk if she wasn't ready. So he had to try and help her see his point of view.

"There's so much I can't tell Ellie now. About my job, my life. If I could do this for her-have my dad give her away at her wedding-it'd make me feel better about what I can't tell her."

"Chuck, you're an amazing brother," Sarah said, taking his hand again. "I know it's tough to hold back with her, but you don't have anything to feel guilty about."

He looked down, needing a moment to deal with his emotions, to find some balance. He didn't want to say something he regretted, but he wasn't going to change his mind about this.

Sarah reached out with her free hand and lightly stroked his cheek. "Chuck?"

"Yeah, Sarah?" he said, slowly lifting his head and looking at her. She was still nibbling on her lower lip and her eyes reflected anxiety and nervousness. "What is it?" he asked, feeling a stab of worry at the sight of Sarah looking nervous.

She swallowed. "I . . . I do know what it's like. To wonder where someone is. And to be disappointed and hurt when you find out the truth."

Chuck nodded slowly, giving her his undivided attention. She went on, speaking slowly. "If you want to find your dad, I think you should try. I just . . . believe me: I know what it's like to have a father that disappears on you."

And just like that, a piece to the puzzle that was Sarah Walker fell into place for Chuck.

He reached out and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her into a gentle hug. She curled in against him, her head on his shoulder.

"I'll be careful," he said, letting one of his hands stroke her back. "I know that it'll take a lot to find him. It'll give me plenty of time to make sure how I feel about seeing him again."

"And you can talk to me," Sarah said softly. "I'll always listen." She lifted her head and smiled at him. "Because, you know, I have two of these." She pointed to her ears.

Chuck laughed as he remembered saying those words to Sarah when they were in her classroom at Project Omaha. He leaned in and kissed her. "Thank you. So, is everything I say so memorable?" he asked.

Sarah kissed him back, smiling against his lips. "Maybe."

"Maybe?" Chuck did a roll, pulling her down onto the bed with him and pinning her to the mattress.

She smirked up at him. "Trying to get me to change my answer?"

"Maybe," he said, purposely repeating her answer, as he leaned in and kissed her neck.

XXX

The next morning was their last day in California. They were taking a morning flight to D.C., where he would undergo some testing and they would have several meetings. Tomorrow night, they would fly back to Rome.

It would be an adjustment, going back to the rules once they returned to the villa. No more open displays of affection, no more nights spent together. Chuck sighed a little as he thought about what they were giving up.

Sarah looked at him over the rim of her coffee mug. "Penny for your thoughts?"

"Just thinking," he said, reaching across the table to take her hand.

Once again, Sarah displayed her spooky knack for knowing what he was thinking. "It's hard for me, too," she said quietly, her eyes locked on his. "Giving up what we had here."

He gently rubbed his thumb against her palm. "I know. But the reasons for being discreet haven't changed."

"No, they haven't," Sarah said, sounding regretful. She took another sip of her coffee, then glanced around quickly. "Chuck? Do you think Ellie likes me?"

"What?" Chuck asked, boggling at her. "Of course she did. She thinks you're great."

She gave him a small, slightly shy smile. "Yeah? She's important to you, so . . ."

Chuck gave her a lopsided grin. "She likes you. I know it."

"You do? How?" She sounded intrigued.

"She went shopping with you." Chuck's grin widened as Sarah's expression grew even more puzzled. "Ellie's really picky about who she goes shopping with," he explained. "Let's put it this way: she never went shopping with Jill."

Sarah took a quick sip of her coffee, but not before he saw her pleased smile. In general, he didn't believe in bad-mouthing his ex, but it was true. Ellie and Jill had never hit it off. But it hadn't taken long before Ellie had invited Sarah to have some girl time.

He drank some of his coffee, letting himself reflect on this last week. It seemed to him that they had taken a step forward in their relationship. Getting to be a normal couple, talking about their pasts . . . he had never felt so close to her. Like they were on a better footing together.

After nine months of dating, suddenly things felt much more serious.

Chuck looked at Sarah for a few moments, until she looked up and smiled at him. He smiled back, interlacing his fingers between hers.

Maybe it was time for something more. He knew how much he cared about Sarah. More than cared, actually. He loved her. She was smart, beautiful, strong. He felt like he could trust her with anything and no matter what it was, she'd keep him safe. Morgan had said he shouldn't let Sarah get away. For someone who'd yet to have a relationship lasting more than a month, his best friend was pretty wise.

"Earth to Chuck. We need to get going."

"Huh?" he asked, looking at Sarah before her words sunk in. "Yeah, right," he said, getting up and carrying his mug to the sink. "Ellie! We need our chauffeur!"

His sister walked into the kitchen and eyed him. "Very funny, Chuck."

He grinned at her and kissed her cheek. "Good morning. We really appreciate the ride to the airport."

"That sounds like my brother." She smiled at him. "We have to do this again. Maybe Devon and I could come visit you and Sarah in D.C. sometime."

"Maybe," he said, sounding noncommittal. He wasn't sure if the CIA would be willing to support his cover identity to that extent. It was something to ask Sarah about.

"Well, I definitely want to see you at Christmas. I know how busy you are, but it didn't feel like the holidays without you here last year."

Somehow, he had managed to forget just how persistent Ellie was. "It'll depend on work, sis. Christmas is six months off-we can talk more when it gets closer to the holidays." He quickly kissed her cheek. "I'm going to get our suitcases and put them in the car."

Ellie shook her head but smiled at him. "Okay, go ahead." She handed him the keys, then looked at Sarah. "He's got plenty of flaws, but he'll always carry the luggage."

Sarah grinned. "I've noticed. I overpacked, but Chuck was very chivalrous and didn't even mention how heavy my bag was."

Both women laughed, and Chuck shrugged and smiled. "I'm a gentleman."

They laughed harder, sending Chuck towards the guest room in an act of self-preservation. He picked up their luggage and carried it to Ellie's car, his mind returning to his earlier thoughts.

He knew how he felt about Sarah. Did that mean that she was the one?

End, Chapter 3


	4. Chapter 4

With a sigh, Sarah realized they were approaching their destination. She had to admit, it was taking her a little bit of time to let go of that vacation feeling. Even after changing into a suit from her vacation clothes, since they'd be going straight to CIA headquarters after they landed, she didn't want to let go of the lightness she had enjoyed during the last week.

When they were on vacation, she had gotten too used to holding Chuck's hand whenever she wanted, kissing him as she frequently as she could. And getting to spend every night with him . . . she'd never slept so well as she had during this week. He was so warm, he made the bed feel a hundred times better. And he understood that some nights she needed quiet before she fell asleep, and other nights she wanted to be close to him. His understanding of her needs made her nerves about their vacation seem misplaced now.

She turned away from the plane window where Washington, D.C. was coming into view and looked at Chuck. He was buried in a fat book, one that he had been reading even before they left Rome. With a smile, she lightly tapped him on his shoulder.

His head jerked up and he looked around in confusion. "Huh?"

"The plane's getting ready to land," she said, adjusting her seat belt. "We'll be on the ground in ten minutes."

"Oh, right," Chuck said, giving her a lopsided smile. He slid a bookmark into his book and leaned down to pick up his carry-on. "Sorry for zoning out there; I'm trying to get ready for the next book in _A Song of Fire and Ice_ by re-reading the first three." Sliding the book into his bag, he stood up and put his carry-on back in the overhead bin.

"Are all the books in that series so long?" The book Chuck was reading had to be over eight hundred pages.

"Yeah, pretty much. But I love long books." He sat down in his seat and buckled the seat belt around his hips.

Sarah smiled at him. "It'd take me a year to read a book like that."

"Don't sell yourself short," he said, kissing her cheek and grinning at her. She smiled back, feeling a small flutter at his unceasing confidence in her.

She took his hand and switched gears. "Are you ready for our meetings?"

"As I'll ever be," he said, shrugging his shoulders. "I just sit there, mostly. And end up with the world's worst headache."

"I know, Chuck." She squeezed his hand. "I have sleeping pills, if you need them."

"We'll see," Chuck said, his voice noncommittal. Chuck's reluctance to take anything that knocked him out had made for some difficult moments when he was dealing with pain from the Intersect. He often got headaches if he had to flash too often; when he got the upgrade in the spring, he'd been in pain for nearly a week.

Yet Chuck was an adult and he was the one with the Intersect in his head. So although she had the unfamiliar desire to wrap him in blankets and keep him from feeling any pain, he was the one who made the call about when it got too bad to bear. So instead of continuing the discussion, she just squeezed his hand and waited for their plane to land.

Once they were off the plane and had collected their bags, they met a driver who took them to Langley. During their drive, Sarah focused on shifting back into spy mode, which meant no holding hands with Chuck. Even though her hand felt empty without being wrapped around his.

At CIA headquarters, they went immediately to Director Graham's office. Chuck fidgeted as they waited in the outer office; Graham made him nervous. She discreetly nudged his bouncing knee with her own, to get his attention, then gave him a small smile. He smiled back, looking calmer until they were ushered in.

From behind his large, modern black desk, Langston Graham looked every inch the focused, ruthless CIA director that he was. He'd risen through the ranks over the last three decades, working his legendary achievements into his current position. Even Sarah felt a moment of intimidation as he let them wait, the director finally looking at them and rising to his feet.

"Good afternoon, agents," he said, reaching out to shake each of their hands. "How were your flights?"

"Very good, sir," Sarah said briskly, giving Graham a small smile. Both she and Chuck took their seats and Graham looked at Chuck.

"You got Agent Walker to take her first vacation in six years. I hope you both enjoyed the time off, because I'm afraid there won't be any annual leave for either of you in the coming months."

"I think both of us are rested and ready to go, Director," Chuck said, glancing at Sarah. She nodded and Graham pursed his lips.

"Good. While you're with us, Agent Bartowski, we'll be monitoring the Intersect to determine if your recent stumbles are the result of faulty data. We'll also have both of you attend our latest Fulcrum briefings, tomorrow morning at nine a.m. Agent Walker, I understand you have a weapons recertification to complete."

"Yes, sir, I'll be taking care of that this afternoon, hopefully."

Graham nodded. "Good. Agent Bartowski, the Intersect team is waiting for you. Once I'm done talking with Agent Walker, she can join you for the rest of the testing."

Sarah exchanged a look with Chuck. She hadn't expected to have a private meeting with Graham. Usually such meetings didn't bode well. Given her relationship with the director, though, it wasn't that surprising.

"Of course, Director," Chuck said, standing up. "Sarah, I'll see you later."

"Okay, Chuck," she said, giving him a quick smile.

Chuck nodded to the director and stepped out of the office, leaving Sarah alone with Graham.

The director arched an eyebrow. "On first-name terms, hmm?"

"We have been working together for nine months," Sarah said evenly. "We've become a good team, along with Major Casey. And I don't think there's been any complaints about our effectiveness as a team, the recent missions notwithstanding."

"No, there hasn't been. Admirable, given your relationship status."

Graham's voice was level and his face was impassive. You didn't reach his position without perfecting a poker face. Sarah lifted her chin slightly, trying to keep her face equally blank.

"I wasn't aware that my status with Chuck, whatever it may be, was a matter of concern to the CIA," she said, watching Graham carefully.

He looked at her for a moment, then leaned back in his chair, his body language indicating a shift from her boss to her mentor. "You could quote me the rule book and still find the loopholes, Sarah. If the two of you keep your relationship discreet, which you have, then officially there's no issue."

"Unofficially, though?" Sarah asked, noting his choice of words.

"Unofficially, I won't be here forever. And when that happens, you might have to make a choice." Graham tilted his head to one side. "You know that as long as Agent Bartowski has the Intersect, he's government property."

Sarah's mouth went dry. It wasn't something she had ever thought about in such black-and-white terms, but Graham was right. As long as Chuck had the Intersect, he'd keep working for the CIA. If the political winds changed and their assignment ended, it'd be up to her to decide what was more important: her relationship with Chuck or her career.

She gave herself a mental shake before she got lost in her thoughts. There was no sense in worrying about a future that might not happen. She was all for being prepared, but not to the point where her life stuck to one rigid, never-yielding path. If she had stayed with her original plan, she'd be in deep cover and she'd have no relationship with Chuck. Taking the occasional leap wasn't a bad thing.

"I appreciate your concern, Director. I'll keep this in mind," she said, giving Graham the courtesy of her respect, since she couldn't give him her agreement.

Graham nodded. "What do you think about our issues with Fulcrum?"

The change in topic, moving from the personal to the professional, relaxed Sarah. She shrugged. "Every team has periods when the failures outnumber the successes. If we can confirm the Intersect is working properly, then we can focus on better analyzing the intelligence."

"I agree," Graham said. "We're all very committed to the Intersect project, yet it has turned the intelligence community into a bullseye for groups like Fulcrum. We'll need the Intersect team to pick up its game."

"I believe that with our vacation time, and the most up-to-date information, we'll be well prepared to make some inroads against Fulcrum," Sarah said. "We're all determined to take them out."

Graham nodded and rose from his chair. "I have every confidence in your team."

"Thank you, Director," she said as she stood up as well. "I'll go join Agent Bartowski now."

"It's good seeing you again, Sarah," Graham said.

Sarah gave the director a small smile and a nod before turning and walking out of his office. Now that her unexpected conversation with Graham was over, she was eager to find Chuck and see how the testing was going.

XXX

"We're almost there, Chuck . . ." Sarah said softly, doing her best to hold him up. It was times like this that Sarah wished he wasn't so tall. He was too difficult to maneuver when he was almost incapable of moving, like he was now.

Chuck had spent the bulk of the day helping the scientists test the Intersect. Sarah had watched for a couple of hours as they had had reviewed as much of the Intersect's data on Fulcrum as they could. During the lunch break, Sarah had drawn Chuck aside.

"Are you feeling all right? You're flashing a lot . . ."

His skin was pale and his eyes looked bloodshot, but Chuck nodded. "I'm fine. Having a break helps."

"You need to be careful, Chuck," she said softly.

"You're worrying too much, Sarah." He gave her a weak version of his smile, one that made her want to hug him as tightly as she could. But surrounded by Intersect scientists and various CIA and NSA observers, there was no way she could do that.

She did her best to smile back before she quickly and lightly patted his shoulder. "Eat an extra sandwich. You could use the protein." She took a deep breath. "I'm supposed to go get recertified this afternoon . . ."

Chuck looked over the remaining sandwiches and selected one. "You should go ahead," he said after he had chewed and swallowed his first bite.

Sarah opened her mouth to protest, but Chuck brushed aside her concerns. "You'd be bored, sitting here and watching me flash. And you have to get recertified before you leave, so you might as well go ahead and do it as scheduled. I'll make them give me a break and that should be enough to get me through."

With a sigh, Sarah had nodded in agreement. He was right, even though she didn't like any aspect of this. So she had given him a small, encouraging smile, then headed to the shooting range when Chuck and the scientists resumed their testing.

Her recertification felt like it took forever, but Sarah did the best she could to focus on the job at hand and not think about Chuck. It was after four by the time she returned to the lab, to find the room empty except for Chuck and one of the scientists. In a whisper, the scientist had explained that they had kept working until a half hour earlier, when Chuck had finally throw in the towel. He'd been in too much pain to continue.

This was what she was worried about: Chuck pushing himself too hard without anyone there to remind him of his limits. None of the scientists seemed to realize that Chuck was more than a computer with legs; he felt pain and discomfort and stress. She didn't like the way the CIA and the NSA ignored that fact, making Chuck use the Intersect repeatedly when anyone could see that he was barely conscious. She knew that Chuck was aware he had limits, but he was so determined to be successful, to show that they had made the right choice in picking him for the Intersect. It seemed that he was willing to put himself through hell for the CIA, without realizing that if he got hurt, they'd just go out and find someone else to be the Intersect.

Plus, this amount of testing seemed to be about more than just fact-checking the Fulcrum data. She didn't know what was going on, but she had every intention of finding out before they left for Rome tomorrow night. But right now, her first priority was Chuck.

She started by taking him to the hotel where the CIA often booked rooms for agents, doing her best to make him comfortable without revealing to a building full of observant spies how she felt about him. By the time they had reached the hotel, her nerves were frazzled.

He tried to take her hand as they walked towards the hotel's elevator, but Sarah had pulled her hand away. "Not here," she hissed quietly. "We have to be-"

"Discreet," Chuck said, rubbing a hand over his face. She thought she heard him mutter that he hated that word, but Sarah chose to ignore him and get him into the elevator.

"I hate the rules, too, but we've got to live by them."

"We're in a hotel, Sarah," he said, his words slurring more than earlier. "You think Beckman and Graham have the place staked out?"

"There are agents all over this hotel," she protested. "I'm not taking the chance."

The opening of the elevator doors thankfully nipped the argument in the bud. Sarah led Chuck down the hall to one of the rooms, getting the door open and pushing him inside.

"You sure you wanna come in?" Chuck asked as she followed him in. He tugged on his tie, loosening it until he could pull it over his head. He toed off his dress shoes, then slumped down on the bed. "Bad for your reputation, y'know."

Sarah took a deep breath. He was in pain and hurting, she reminded herself. Snapping at him wouldn't change that. "Chuck, get some sleep. We'll talk later," she said, softly yet firmly.

He looked up at her, his face screwed up as he coped with what must be a massive migraine, then sighed and closed his eyes. Within a few moments, she could see his body loosen as he fell into a deep sleep.

Watching him sleep and seeing how his forehead was still wrinkled from the pain, it seemed ridiculous to be arguing over showing affection. But Graham's words this morning had made her extra aware of the fragility of their relationship. She wasn't going to lose him because she was impulsive. When it came to his emotions, Chuck didn't think; he went for it with almost no restraint. She was the one who had to keep her head, had to keep things in check, or else they'd be reassigned.

This wasn't how she wanted their relationship to be, but it was how it had to be if they were going to stay together.

She undressed him carefully, removing his wrinkled and sweaty clothing and leaving him in his undershirt and boxers. She pulled the covers over him and left him a can of ginger ale, a bottle of extra-strength aspirin and a pack of crackers, along with a note saying that when he woke up he should order some food. And then, with a heavy heart, Sarah went to her own lonely hotel room.

XXX

By four a.m., Sarah had admitted to herself that she should have stayed with Chuck.

She'd spent the bulk of the night tossing and turning. Even though the time change and the busy day had exhausted her, she couldn't quiet her mind enough to sleep. She'd tried reading some of the magazines she had stashed in her carry-on, but nothing held her attention. The hotel's gym didn't open until six, so that ruled out going for a run. She'd finally settled on flipping through the TV channels as her mind kept working.

Would it have been so bad to stay? It would be easy to explain it as caring for her hurt partner. It was expected that partners and teams would look out for each other; that was the whole point of working together and forming those bonds, even if the CIA expected any team to turn on each other if the conditions warranted.

But something within in her wouldn't let her take the easy excuse. Wouldn't let herself stop being the responsible one here.

Early-morning TV was so boring that somehow, she managed to doze off. It was a product of her childhood that she could wake up at the slightest noise. So when there was a light tap on her door, Sarah practically leapt out of bed. Pausing for a moment to check who it was, she quickly pulled the door open to reveal a still-pale but better-looking Chuck.

He gave her a small, hesitant smile. "Good morning."

"Good morning," she said, her voice cracking a little, before she reached out and took his hand, gently pulling him into her room. She wrapped her arms around him, hugging him hard. "I'm sorry."

"Shhh," he said quietly, running a hand over her hair. "I'm the one who's sorry, for not listening to you. Not when you said I needed to be careful and not when we came back here last night."

"You were hurting too much to care," she said, pressing her face against his shoulder.

"Yeah," Chuck said softly. She felt his lips brush over her hair and she sighed softly. How could one man be so sweet?

Sarah pulled back enough to look up at him. "Are you feeling better?"

He nodded. "Sleep usually does the trick. But no flashing today. Might have to keep my eyes closed during the Fulcrum briefing-you think anyone will notice?" He gave her a soft grin and Sarah couldn't help smiling back.

The relief she felt, at seeing Chuck making jokes and smiling, was a welcome feeling. She slid her hands down his arms and took his hands in hers. "Have you eaten anything?"

Chuck shook his head. "Thought we could do a big breakfast, since who knows if we'll get lunch before we have to get to the airport."

"Room service or restaurant?" Sarah asked, rubbing her thumbs against his hands.

He hesitated for a moment, then said, "Room service. I have something I want to talk to you about."

"Oh . . . okay," she said, feeling equal parts curiosity and nervousness. Once they had placed their order, Chuck sat down on the end of her bed and patted the mattress next to him.

She sat down, reaching out to take his hand. "What's up?" she asked lightly, looking at him.

Chuck squeezed her hand. "It's nothing bad. Well, not bad, just . . . just full of unknown and unpredictable outcomes, which doesn't mean bad. It might be good! I just don't know yet."

When he babbled like this, she usually had a hard time not smiling at how adorable he was. This time, though, his words just made her nervous. "Chuck," she interrupted, "what is it?"

"Right. Right. Um, so the testing I was doing yesterday . . . we did confirm there was some bad data in the Intersect, so I'll have to do some more cross-checking when I get a flash over the next few weeks. Meanwhile, they're going to check the data that was uploaded the last time, go over it with a fine-tooth comb and see if they can figure out how the data got corrupted."

Sarah nodded. This wasn't the first time they'd discovered false intelligence in the Intersect, since after all, the computer in Chuck's brain was fed information by humans. Mistakes happened.

He continued, his eyes locked on her face. "But they also told me that an upgrade for the Intersect is coming."

"Like before? New intel?"

Chuck shook his head. "No . . . not like before." He paused, then spoke carefully. "You know how operating systems get upgraded? First there was Windows 95-well, not first, that would be Windows 1.0, but for now, let's just say there was Windows 95 first. So first was Windows 95, then came Windows 98 and 2000 and XP?"

"Um . . . I guess so," Sarah said slowly.

"What I mean is, the operating systems get upgraded to do new things, or do the old things faster, more efficiently," Chuck said, clearly warming up to this metaphor. "Well . . . they want to do that with the Intersect. Go from what I have now, the Intersect 1.0 if you will, to a better version. The Intersect 2.0."

Sarah frowned as she considered this. "It's been less than a year since you got the Intersect . . . it seems fast."

"If we were talking about regular old software, yeah, but the Intersect's different," Chuck said, turning on the bed to face her. "They made a lot of guesses about things when they were designing it. Now that it's in my head and they've studied how I use it, seen what parts of my brain I'm using, they've been able to come up with new ways for me to process the information."

"I guess that makes sense," Sarah said, mulling this over. "But it still seems too fast to me. Like they're rushing things."

Chuck shrugged. "It's pretty early in the process, I think. Sheila, the scientist who stayed with me last night? She was the one who told me about the upgrade, because she said it'd mean I'd probably have less physical problems when I flashed after I got the Intersect 2.0."

She squeezed his hand tightly. "That'd be a good thing."

"Yeah," Chuck said, giving her a small smile. "I think so, too."

The arrival of their breakfast ended their conversation about the Intersect upgrade. She knew that there were more pressing matters that would soon be drawing their attention, but she couldn't help wondering what this potential Intersect 2.0 upgrade might mean for Chuck and their team.

XXX

By the fourth hour of the joint CIA/NSA briefing on Fulcrum, Sarah felt like her brain couldn't absorb any more facts, figures, or vague statements. She was grateful that Chuck was there, since his ability to take in information exceeded her own and pretty much anyone else's.

Throughout the briefing, the best analysts in both organizations had presented reams of intel on the terrorist group, providing all that was known on Fulcrum's history, goals and plans. Yet even with all their research, they still didn't know that much.

Fulcrum had gone beyond being a splinter group of rogue CIA agents; they had made inroads in the various military intelligence units as well as foreign agencies as well. But it was troubling that even with all those potential resources and networks, all Fulcrum seemed to want was the Intersect. It was believed that they would use the Intersect to create more effective agents, ones who could win the War on Terror better and faster than the CIA and NSA could.

Between the analysts hedging their bets and revealing how little they knew about Fulcrum and feeling overwhelmed by all the information, Sarah had, against all efforts, let everyone's voice roll over her, their voices turning into a low drone. But then, one sentence snapped her out of her daze.

"Were there any signs that indicated Perseus was going to defect to Fulcrum?" Director Graham asked, pinning a nervous-looking analyst under the weight of his gaze.

"N-no, sir," the analyst said, the slightest catch in her voice. "No unusual financial transactions, no secretive communications . . . we think that either Perseus was misled to Fulcrum's true nature and was recruited by them, or that Fulcrum simply captured him after they learned what Perseus has been working on here."

She leaned forward in her chair. "What is Perseus doing for Fulcrum?" she asked, drawing the attention of the analyst and most of the other people in the briefing room.

"It's believed that with his extensive knowledge of the Intersect, Perseus has become Fulcrum's lead scientist in creating their own Intersect," the analyst said slowly. "We think that Fulcrum targeted him for that very reason."

"Let's hope Perseus is a pawn and not a traitor," Graham said darkly. "We need to make recovering him one of our top priorities. In the meanwhile, we should concentrate on promptly analyzing any shred of intelligence on Fulcrum that comes our way." He exchanged glances with General Beckman, then nodded. "Get to work, people."

As everyone else collected their papers, engaged in small talk and prepared to leave, Graham looked at Chuck and Sarah. "A moment, Agents Bartowski and Walker?"

"Of course, Director," Chuck said, moving to sit back down next to Sarah. She nodded distractedly.

The news about Perseus was definitely troubling. Perseus certainly had played a large role in the building of the Intersect. But Sarah didn't think most people knew that he hadn't been the one to actually create it. That a mysterious figure named Orion was the real brain behind the idea and that Perseus had been nothing more than a glorified go-between and foreman.

"Sarah?"

She looked at Chuck, who had lightly touched her shoulder as he spoke her name. "Is everything okay?" he asked, his face looking concerned.

Taking a deep breath, Sarah nodded, then turned to face Director Graham and General Beckman. "My apologies. I was lost in thought."

Director Graham looked at her quizzically, then nodded to a technician. "Bring up Major Casey on the video screen, then leave us."

"Yes, sir," the tech said, working quickly. Within a moment, Casey was on screen.

"Thank you for joining us, Major," the general said. "Due to recent developments, the decision has been made to alert this team to a piece of highly-classified information."

"The loss of Perseus to Fulcrum has altered the landscape," Director Graham said. "Not only does it give Fulcrum an advantage, it interferes with our plans for the Intersect. Therefore, your team's new priority is finding Orion."

"Orion, sir?" Chuck asked, his voice full of curiosity.

"Orion is the designer of the Intersect," Graham said, leaning forward with his hands braced against the conference table. "He is the one who came up with the idea, created the neural architecture, everything."

Chuck looked confused and surprised. "I had been told Perseus was in charge of the Intersect."

"Orion is rather . . . secretive," Graham said. "He wished to have a degree of independence from the CIA and we indulged him due to his genius."

"Which, as we now know, was a major error," Beckman said, giving Graham a sideways glance. "Because Orion hasn't made contact for the last three weeks."

Casey grunted softly. "It's the eggheads that always turn first."

"There's no evidence that Orion has been compromised. And it's not unusual for him to go off-grid," Graham said, sounding frustrated with the NSA objections. "But at this time, we need to reopen communications with him."

Beckman let out a small snort. "Good luck with that."

Chuck cleared his throat, clearly trying to prevent this briefing from devolving into a hair-pulling contest. "What are our orders?" Chuck asked.

"Find Orion," Graham said shortly. "We'll prepare a packet of information for you to take back to Rome, where with Major Casey you'll continue your work against Fulcrum while attempting to locate Orion." He narrowed his eyes and looked at Chuck and Sarah, then Casey. "Orion cannot be captured by Fulcrum."

The tension in the room ratcheted up. Sarah almost shivered at the intensity in Graham's voice. She spoke softly. "Yes, Director."

Graham nodded. "Good. Agents, you have your plane to catch. Once you're back in Rome, you'll need to hit the ground running."

"If the Intersect is to remain safe, Orion must be secured," Beckman said. "Get the job done, people."

"Yes, ma'am," Casey said, his voice firm.

"We'll all do our very best," Chuck said, nodding his head in agreement.

"See that you do," Graham said, standing up. "Your paperwork will be waiting for you by the time you leave here."

Sarah stood up as well, her mind whirling as she considered this new state of affairs.

When Perseus had told her the truth about his role in the Intersect, back at the Project Omaha base, it hadn't mattered when compared to her worries about Chuck getting the Intersect. But once the upload had happened smoothly, and in the excitement of their new relationship and going to Rome, she hadn't really thought about Perseus's revelation. But now, that conversation had come back to her. And it left her with so many questions.

How could the CIA proceed on an Intersect upgrade without Perseus? Did this mean that the secretive Orion was playing a bigger role now, even with his recent disappearance? How much did Perseus know? Could he have been working for Fulcrum long before his capture or defection, whichever it was? And the biggest question of all: what had he told Fulcrum about Chuck?

Sarah had to guess that finding Orion was more about the Intersect 2.0 than about protecting him from Fulcrum. After all, since they had Perseus, Fulcrum probably had more than enough intel to build their own Intersect. Perhaps the reason the CIA seemed to be rushing on the Intersect upgrade was due more to having the actual creator working on it instead of his less-skilled associate. And it was likely that an improved Intersect would help the CIA take the fight to Fulcrum.

As she walked with Chuck through the halls of CIA headquarters, thinking about all these questions, she wondered if she should talk to Chuck. Tell him that she had known all along about Orion and hadn't told him. It wasn't like she had lied to him. She had just forgotten, amid all the drama in those last days at Project Omaha, to talk to him about Perseus' true role. Was the fact that she knew who the true creator of the Intersect was really all that important?

She didn't think Chuck could be harder on her than she was being on herself. She couldn't believe she had forgotten this conversation. If she had recalled that conversation with Perseus, she could have had a powerful piece of information when she was trying to research the Intersect. Now, though, she'd have to focus on the job instead of worrying about Chuck.

Sarah glanced at Chuck, still feeling unsure about what to do. She could see the tightness in his shoulders, reflecting the tension they both were feeling. Seeing that, she realized that she had to talk to him. He deserved to know and she wasn't going to keep him in the dark. Even if the thought of admitting her mistake made her feel strangely nervous, Sarah knew it was the right thing to do.

XXX

Once they were in the car on their way to the airport, Sarah took advantage of their only chance to be relatively alone for the next several hours. She raised the privacy screen between themselves and the driver before turning in her seat to look at Chuck.

He had quickly become engrossed in the paperwork on Orion, his eyes scanning over the pages. She knew that he was already trying to figure out this new puzzle, and in that moment she felt a wave of emotion that she couldn't really name. It was enough to make her reach out and lightly touch his hand.

"Chuck?"

"Hmm, Sarah?" he said, glancing at her quickly. He took another look at her, his forehead creasing as he realized something was up. He closed the folder containing the Orion intel and gave her his full attention. "Is something wrong?" he asked, looking around and noticing the raised partition in front of them.

She shook her head. "Not wrong, not really, but I have something to tell you."

"Okay," he said quietly, leaning back against the leather car seat. "What is it?"

"Chuck . . . did you hear anything about Perseus being involved in the Intersect upgrade project?"

"What?" He sounded confused enough that it took him a moment to get his thoughts in order. "I-I don't know, Sarah. I don't think so. From the sound of things, the upgrade is just getting started." Chuck's forehead was wrinkled, from either confusion or anxiety. "What does that matter, Sarah?"

She sighed. "I don't know if it does . . . but having you talk about an upgrade and then finding out Perseus is under Fulcrum's control-it made me start wondering if the upgrade is such a good idea."

"I'm having the same thoughts," Chuck said, squeezing her hand. "Believe me, this is my brain we're talking about. When they tell us officially about the Intersect upgrade, don't think I'm not going to ask about this. And until then, I'll do some unofficial research."

Sarah nodded, feeling a slight easing of her nerves. Even with his spy training, she had sometimes worried that Chuck was too trusting, too willing to believe that everyone was a good person. In Chuck Bartowski, it was completely endearing; in Agent Charles Bartowski, it made her feel like the devil on his shoulder. Hearing that he wasn't taking anything about the Intersect on faith was reassuring to hear.

There was still the question of Orion, though. How he fit into the Intersect upgrade and whether they could find him before Fulcrum did.

"Okay?" he asked, leaning towards her.

She nodded and he smiled at her. "Good. It's something else, finding out that Perseus isn't the guy behind the Intersect. I have to say, I feel kinda relieved. I never really trusted that guy. He just didn't seem to have all the answers."

"Yeah . . ." Sarah took a breath. "Chuck, I already knew about Orion."

"What?" Chuck said, looking shocked. "You already knew?"

"Perseus told me, before you agreed to upload the Intersect." She took a deep breath, her words starting to tumble out of her mouth. "I went to talk to him, because I was worried about what the Intersect might do to you. I was scared, especially since I was falling for you and hadn't admitted to myself that I was. So I went to talk to him and he slipped up and mentioned Orion."

Chuck looked at her, his eyes narrowed. "What did he say about Orion?"

She searched her memory. "That he was a genius. That he was the one who really came up with the Intersect and that he had ideas that were miles beyond what the other scientists were coming up with. But he didn't want to be there, at the Omaha base, so Perseus was the one who ran things for Orion."

"That's really odd," Chuck said, frowning. "What kind of scientist wouldn't want to oversee his own experiment? Especially one so ground-breaking? I mean, the info the scientists showed me when they were prepping me for the initial upload-it blew my mind, how advanced it was."

"I don't know, Chuck," she said. "All I know is that it's Orion who put together the Intersect, but Perseus seemed to be second-in-command. And now Perseus is part of Fulcrum."

"He could be there under duress," Chuck said, sounding like he was trying to convince himself of this viewpoint.

"That's true, but sometimes it's all Occam's Razor: the simplest explanation is the best."

Chuck sighed. "Yeah, I know." He looked at her, his eyes penetrating her. "Why are you telling me this now?"

"Instead of when I found out?" she asked, stalling for a little extra time. Chuck only nodded, so she took a moment, then spoke. "When I found out, we weren't together yet, we didn't know each other that well, and you were facing a huge decision. To be honest, I don't think it even crossed my mind to tell you-it didn't seem that important. And then you agreed to upload the Intersect and we got together and . . ."

"You weren't thinking about it anymore," Chuck said.

"Yeah, exactly," Sarah said, reaching out to take his hand. "I hadn't even thought about it until I heard that Perseus was working for Fulcrum, for whatever reasons he may have."

Chuck nodded, his hand unmoving in hers. "Well, this changes things. About the Intersect upgrade and . . . and other things." He went silent, his expression becoming one of deep thought.

His preoccupation let Sarah have some time to think. He seemed to have taken her news all right. She glanced at him as the car pulled in at Dulles International Airport. Every day she spent with Chuck, she could feel herself falling for him more. She'd never felt like this: like she'd do anything to keep him safe. Not just physically safe, like he was an asset to protect. No, she wanted to keep his heart safe. Make sure he was never disappointed or unhappy. Even though she knew that some pain was part of life, she irrationally didn't want Chuck to be hurt. She didn't want him to lose that unique quality that let him keep hoping. She wanted him to stay optimistic and hopeful and happy. She'd do anything to make that happen.

It was all about protecting Chuck. No matter what. Even if she couldn't give him what he wanted, she was going to give him what he needed-and that was to be safe.

End, Chapter Four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some people noticed in the first chapter that I had Casey as a captain. That was a mistake on my part-I meant to have him as a major, thus the change in this chapter.


	5. Chapter 5

Chuck shifted yet again in his seat. All around him, the occupants of the jet to Rome were sleeping or staying quiet. He seemed to be the only person on the plane who was feeling fidgety. Even Sarah, who could teach Mad-Eye Moody something about "constant vigilance," was asleep.

He turned his head and gazed down at her. She was curled up in a ball, her hair covering her face. The blonde strands moved a little as she breathed, making her seem so normal and human compared to the superhero she always reminded him of. Gently, he brushed her hair back, his fingers lightly skimming over her skin. She sighed softly but kept sleeping, letting Chuck look his fill without interruption.

The whole layover in D.C. had been full of unexpected news. First the potential Intersect upgrade, then the capture of Perseus by Fulcrum, and last but definitely not least, the revelation of the Intersect's true creator. All those developments had occupied his mind over the last day, and he didn't feel he was any closer to figuring out what to do or how he felt.

Which left Sarah, and the part she had played in all this.

With a sigh, Chuck unbuckled his seat belt and stood up. He savored being able to stretch out his legs as he walked towards one of the bathrooms. He'd felt tied up in knots since they had stepped on the plane, in more ways than one.

Finding out that Sarah knew about the link between Perseus and Orion and hadn't told him . . . it was another case of his mind and his emotions colliding. Because logically, her explanation had made a lot of sense. The days leading up to his agreement to take the Intersect had been full of self-doubt and soul-searching for both of them. They hadn't talked much in those days, thanks to his overtures for a deeper relationship and Sarah's hesitation. So it made sense that she hadn't told him what she had learned, not when he was preparing to become the Intersect. And when they got together then, neither of them had been that interested in talking.

He blushed a little as he remembered the frenzied make-out sessions they'd had, hiding anyplace that was remotely private on the Omaha base. Although they hadn't made love until they had arrived in Rome, they'd gotten very familiar with each other in the few days leading up to the Intersect upload.

Chuck stepped into the tiny bathroom and splashed some cold water on his face, hoping it would tamp down on the flush in his cheeks.

So the two of them were more concerned about other things at first, he admitted. But afterwards? They had been together for nine months now; there had been many opportunities for Sarah to reveal what she knew about Perseus. After all, they had seen the scientist when Chuck had received an update to the Intersect three months ago. Wouldn't seeing him have reminded her? And with her memory jogged, she'd have told him the truth, wouldn't she?

Swallowing, Chuck looked at himself in the mirror. That was the million-dollar question, wasn't it? If Sarah had remembered at some point, had she purposely kept the information from him? Or was it like she had explained-she hadn't remembered until today that Perseus was merely the front man of the Intersect project?

Chuck knew that Sarah was only starting to learn how to open up. How to reveal herself and consider her own feelings and wishes. She had an incredible amount of reserve; anything emotional often caused her to put up a blank wall where her face should be. He'd gotten better at reading her since they had become a couple, but when she went impassive on him, he had no idea what she was feeling.

The problem was, at this point it was too late to confront her about his questions. If he asked her now, it would seem like he was judging her or doubting what she had said. And he might be confused by her, maybe even a little annoyed, but the last thing he wanted was for her to think that he didn't trust her.

And maybe he was just blowing this out of proportion, letting his emotions color his reaction. Sarah might be a bit reserved and secretive when it came to her feelings, but he knew that she valued honesty and loyalty. She'd never given any sign that she wasn't happy in their relationship-

Although would she? If she was unhappy being with him, she wouldn't want to jeopardize the team that was trying to establish itself. A team for which she had sacrificed her long-term plans of deep cover operations. So she might hide her true feelings and stay with him, for her career and her country.

Chuck frowned. "Now I'm imagining things," he muttered. That was a crazy, three-in-the-morning delusion. Sarah might be a spy, but she was also a person. A good person, one who didn't like manipulating the people that she worked with and cared about. She wouldn't lie to him like that.

Clearly, the link between Orion and Perseus was something that fell by the wayside in the midst of everything that was going on in the last days of Project Omaha. Once she remembered it, she had told him right away. That was all there was to it.

The best thing right now would be for him to go back to his seat and get some sleep, since there was bound to be a stack of reports waiting for him once they got back to the villa. As important as his relationship with Sarah was, it was time to shift from being a couple to being partners. There was a lot riding on his performance right now, and he was going to do everything he could to not let anyone down, least of all his country. Even if it meant he had to set aside what he wanted: his plans to search for his father while crafting a deeper relationship with Sarah.

XXX

As he spoke, Chuck kept his voice low. "Sarah, Casey, end of the hall. That's where the server room is."

"Understood," came Sarah's voice over the comms.

On the monitors in the van, Chuck watched Sarah and Casey slowly move down the hallway. It was just before dawn, and the van was parked in the vast empty parking lot around a quiet office building. Only the cleaners were in the building at the moment, which was why Sarah and Casey were pushing a cart loaded with cleaning supplies.

"Approaching the server room now," Sarah said softly.

Chuck yawned, covering his mouth. But Sarah must have heard him. "Are we boring you, Chuck?" There was no humor in her voice when she spoke, unlike the gentle teasing she sometimes did when they were on missions.

He swallowed. "Just didn't get enough sleep last night. You've only got four minutes in the server room."

"Fine," Sarah said sharply as Casey finished picking the lock on the server room. The two of them stepped into the room, going out of camera range.

Rubbing his eyes, Chuck tried not to let his thoughts wander away from the mission. It was hard not to think about the state of his relationship with Sarah, though. Not when he was stuck in the van due to his own stupidity.

As expected, returning to Rome meant jumping back into a mountain of work. Paperwork was like rabbits: if ignored, it multiplied by a factor of ten. Casey and Sarah did their share, but the bulk of the analysis always fell to Chuck due to the Intersect. So he started putting in a lot of late nights, trying to get one step ahead of Fulcrum.

For the most part, the combination of vacation and gaining the most up-to-date intel on Fulcrum gave them the boost they needed. Within two weeks, Chuck had found a lead: Fulcrum had a training facility, located in an office park outside of Florence. Any agents that they recruited from Europe were sent to this facility, and it was also rumored to be where the terrorist organization kept back-ups of their files.

It was a long shot, but Chuck had persuaded Casey and Sarah to see what they could find out. He'd been all set to lead the mission himself until he had sprained his ankle as they had done reconnaissance around the complex in the early morning hours. He'd tried to grit his teeth through the pain and discomfort, but after an hour he'd had to confess. The news had left Sarah ready to hit the roof.

"How could you endanger the mission by not telling us about this right away?" she hissed angrily as she examined his ankle. "Casey and I can handle this-you can watch from the van."

"Sarah, accessing the servers without setting off any silent alarms, it's going to be tricky," he protested.

"Bartowski, you're no good to us now," Casey said. The NSA agent pulled Chuck to his feet, draping one of Chuck's arms over his massive shoulders. "Walker, I'll be back in a few minutes and we'll head in."

Sarah had crouched down in amid some bushes as Casey half-walked, half-dragged Chuck back to the van. "You've really done it now, Bartowski."

"What? I was tryin' to be a real spy. To tough it out," Chuck said, wincing a little as his ankle throbbed.

Casey grunted. "Like that's what Walker wants. She's gonna be in a mood for the rest of this mission, just watch. You better be careful and make sure we can get in and get out clean."

Although Chuck had hoped Casey was just being grumpy, he'd proven to be eerily accurate. Sarah had been short-tempered whenever he had spoken to her over comms, making Chuck feel like he was all thumbs. Slowly, he had managed to gain enough equilibrium to direct Casey and Sarah to the server room.

Casey's voice was gruff over the comms. "We've got five banks of computers. Where do you want us to start?"

"Look for a USB port on any of the servers," Chuck said quietly. "Plug in the cell phone and hit the send button. That'll give me access."

Within a few moments, his computer's screen started displaying the file list from the Fulcrum server. Chuck began typing commands to copy the server's data to a CIA server, grinning a little. The cell phone gadget had been something he had created for situations like this, and it was pretty awesome to see that it was working.

He had only copied a fraction of the data when he heard soft curses from both Sarah and Casey. Looking up from his computer, he saw security alerts flashing on the van's monitors.

"Sarah, Casey, what's going on?" he said quickly, his fingers flying over the keyboard.

"We tripped an alarm," Sarah said, her voice tight. "The servers are starting to smoke, like they're on fire."

"They're destroying the data," Chuck said, feeling his hands go clammy. Thinking fast, he spoke over the comms. "Yank any of the hard drives you can get to. You've got forty-five seconds before Fulcrum's security forces will be scrambled. I'll delay them as much as I can."

Hacking into the building's communication circuits, Chuck started sending conflicting messages about the location of the security alert. Hopefully, the confusion would mean that Fulcrum would split their forces, sending a few agents to each potential location. It'd make the odds better for Casey and Sarah to get out safely.

He watched the video monitors and frowned as he didn't see Fulcrum splitting their security forces. Instead, they were heading right for the server room. "Casey, Sarah, get out of there!"

Sarah was breathing hard as she spoke. "On our way. Meet you-" With a squawk and a hiss of static, their comms were blocked.

Chuck cursed as he hobbled over to the driver's seat. Fortunately, he'd sprained his left ankle, leaving him able to floor the van towards the rendezvous location. He could only hope that Casey and Sarah could get there.

Within a minute of his arrival, Casey and Sarah had yanked open the back doors and clambered inside the van. "Drive, Bartowski!" Casey yelled as he banged the doors shut. Chuck took off, driving as fast as he could until he reached the motorway.

"Did you get anything?" he asked, glancing over his shoulder at them.

"Just one hard drive," Sarah said, moving to sit in the passenger seat. "It was smoking by the time we got it out, though."

"We might find some data on it," Chuck said. He sighed. "I'm sorry, guys. When I sprained my ankle, I should have aborted."

"Good news, Fulcrum's down one training facility," Sarah said. "They won't be back in Florence, or probably even Italy, for a while. Bad news, they know we're after them, which they already knew." She shrugged her shoulders.

Chuck glanced at Sarah as he drove back towards Rome. He didn't think his brief apology was enough to clear the air between them, but he wasn't about to start that discussion with Casey in the van. He'd just have to wait for a better opportunity.

XXX

As quickly as their missions had started going wrong before their time off, everything started going right. The hard drive that Sarah and Casey had recovered, along with the data that Chuck had been able to copy, wasn't perfect; most of it had gotten corrupted when Fulcrum had attempted to destroy their computers. But Chuck was able to crack the encryption and recreate a partial list of Fulcrum cells and double agents. Even with it being incomplete, it was enough information to give the CIA plenty of possibilities.

With this new information, the CIA started the groundwork to eliminate the Fulcrum cells. It was slow, careful work. Thanks to the errors the Intersect team had made-errors that were only excused due to the intel they had retrieved-Fulcrum was on high alert, particularly in their European bases. Therefore, the CIA moved cautiously and benched Chuck, Casey and Sarah, keeping them out of the field.

Sarah got antsy when they didn't get out into the field for awhile and Casey wasn't much better, becoming even more curt than he already was. Chuck noticed that they both took extra time in the shooting range and even sparred a few times. Not that he kept his nose totally to the grindstone; he made sure to keep up with his workouts and even snuck in a few games of Halo with Morgan during this down time. Still, they were all spending a lot of time together in the villa.

The close quarters meant that he hadn't done much work on his search for his father, unfortunately. His initial research turned up nothing he didn't already know. Stephen J. Bartowski seemingly didn't exist. There was no paper trail: no bank accounts, no tax returns, nothing. No evidence whatsoever of where his father might be or even if he was still alive.

Finding nothing on some basic records searches hadn't dampened his need to keep looking. So he started planning an algorithm, based on some work he'd done at Stanford, that would search online for any scraps of info and put them together. But with Casey and Sarah around most of the time, he didn't have a lot of privacy to review any information the search program turned up. And since there was only so much sleep he could forgo in order to work on this project, finding information about his father's whereabouts ended up on the back burner mostly.

And while it was nice to spend time working with Sarah in the office, it didn't compare to how they had been on vacation. On the surface, their relationship was fine. Yet Chuck felt that there was something missing. They weren't connecting like they had just a few weeks ago and things had felt off since the mission to the Fulcrum base. Actually, if he was honest with himself, their relationship hadn't been clicking since D.C. He'd done his best to get past his doubts about what had happened at CIA headquarters, about how much Sarah had known about Perseus and Orion, by focusing on work and keeping things on an even keel. He'd considered trying to talk to Sarah about all this, but the moment never seemed right.

The right moment still hadn't presented itself by the time they got their next mission, a full month after the discovery of Fulcrum's agent list. When Chuck learned what he'd be expected to do on this mission, he wished they had taken the time to discuss their relationship, figure out what was going on. Because this mission wasn't going to be easy.

Chuck sat at the bar in a swanky London hotel, sipping a tonic water as he idly looked around. He tugged a little on the tie he was wearing.

"Stop fidgeting," Casey said under his breath as he shook a cocktail shaker.

It was all Chuck could do not to roll his eyes. It was easy for Casey to act calm; he was used to being undercover, especially when he was playing one of his normal roles, like a bartender. Chuck was the one with the difficult part in tonight's mission. Well, not as difficult as Sarah's, but still, he didn't like what he'd have to do on this mission, and he wasn't sure if he was ever going to get used to these parts he had to play.

He drank the last of his water and held his glass out to Casey for a refill. Speaking quietly as Casey poured some tonic into his glass, he said, "I hate doing this."

"Suck it up," was Casey's brusque reply. "It's part of the job, and Walker knows you don't mean it."

Chuck sighed and nodded. "Yeah."

"I'm entering the bar," Sarah reported over their communications channel. "Any sign of Barker?"

"He's in one of the booths along the back wall," Casey said, barely moving his lips as he spoke.

Taking a deep breath, Chuck closed his eyes and prepared himself. When he opened them, he was Charles Carmichael again: arrogant playboy with a penchant for beautiful women, polo ponies, and fast cars.

After a few moments, Sarah glided over to the bar and took a seat, two stools down from him. Dressed in a form-fitting black dress with a sky-high skirt and ultra-high heels, she looked gorgeous-and all legs, Chuck thought. He wished that he was seeing her in that dress under different circumstances.

"Vodka tonic with a lime, please," she said to Casey, folding her arms along the top of the bar. She glanced around, catching Chuck's eye and giving him a small smile. All the signals of a woman looking for company, which was the impression she was trying to give.

"Put it on my tab, Johnny," Chuck said in a drawl, moving down the bar to sit next to Sarah. He gave her a long, measuring run-down, hoping that his performance had enough obnoxious jerk to sell the situation. "It's something I do for the most beautiful women in the bar."

Sarah's chuckle sounded like bells. "Women, plural?"

Chuck shrugged. "I don't like to limit my options. It's a hallmark of my family." He held his hand out to her. "Charles Carmichael."

She gave his hand a soft shake. "Anna."

"Another expat, I see. What brings you to merry old England?" Chuck asked, leaning in towards her and keeping a hold on her hand.

"Oh, the usual reasons," she said, tugging gently as she tried to pull her hand away from his.

"No need to play coy," he said, looking at her over the rim of his glass as he sipped his water. He pitched his voice a bit higher than normal, trying to get it to carry through the bar.

Sarah jerked harder, trying to free her hand. "Listen, Mr. Carmichael, I appreciate the drink, but I don't like the strings that are attached."

"Awww, don't be like that, baby." Chuck did his best to slur his words, hating himself as he leered at her.

"Barker's approaching," Casey whispered over comms. "Skip to the finish line."

Chuck nodded and leaned in, whispering in Sarah's ear. To outsiders, it would look like he was making a very indecent suggestion, with how her eyes widened and her cheeks flushed. In reality, though, all he said was, "I'm sorry for this."

Then, he reached out and ran his hand up her side from her hip, his fingers not-so-lightly grazing her breast.

Sarah pulled away and got her hand free, then slapped him across the face. "You can keep your drink!" She hopped off her stool, stumbling a little as she turned right into the arms of Cole Barker, Fulcrum agent and the target of tonight's mission.

"All right there, love?" he asked, running his eyes over her. He looked like he was very used to checking out women while rescuing them from all kinds of disasters. He didn't have the same kind of charm and elegance as James Bond, but he certainly had plenty of swagger.

Like a freight train, the flash hit Chuck suddenly as he looked at Cole Barker.

An Olympic torch-a jelly doughnut-an ornate belt buckle-the name Cole Barker highlighted on a list of names-a map of a housing development-a hummingbird-an Olympic torch

He swallowed, trying to stay in character as Sarah talked to Barker. He couldn't tip off Barker that he and Sarah were agents, but he'd need to find some way to let Sarah know that their target was actually MI-6, as well as the location of the intelligence they were hoping to retrieve.

"Yes-yes, I'm so sorry, it's just that man . . ." Sarah's eyes were big and vulnerable as she looked up at Barker.

Barker's eyes flicked over to Chuck, who was holding his face in his hand. It was time for Chuck to sell this; it had been pounded into his head that your last actions confirmed the first impression you had set up for a target.

Chuck glared at the British man and spat out, "You're welcome to her. A Carmichael deserves better than a cold fish." With that, he spun on his heel and stormed out of the bar.

"Delightful fellow," Chuck heard Cole say over the comms channel that Sarah had kept open.

"Not really," Sarah said. He could hear the smile in her voice; he could just imagine how she was looking up at Barker. "Thank you for the rescue. I guess you're my white knight."

Barker let out a soft, dark chuckle. "Not exactly a white knight, miss."

"My name is Anna. Let me buy you a drink as thanks," Sarah said. She was following the original plan exactly: attempting to form a connection with Barker and keep him in the bar while Chuck searched Barker's room for the data he was handing over to Fulcrum. But with his flash, their mission had changed.

While Sarah wheedled Barker into accepting her offer of a drink, Chuck spoke into the transmitter in his watch. "First off, this guy's MI-6. Second? The intel is in Barker's belt buckle."

Casey snorted. "Better turn up the charm, Walker, if you're gonna get his belt off."

"Not helping, Casey," Chuck hissed. With his position outside the bar, he had no idea how Sarah was interacting with Barker. Not being able to see what was going on made him feel very uneasy.

"Walker, bat the baby blues and get Barker to take you up to his room," Casey said.

"No way," Chuck said immediately. "Too great a risk."

"How else we gonna get that belt?" Casey countered.

Breaking up their argument, Sarah whispered into her transmitter. "Following Casey's plan. Code word is Cristal. Stop fighting over comms!"

"Understood, Sarah," Chuck said, swallowing hard. He didn't like this at all. Not just because Sarah would be going in by herself, something that increased the chances of something going wrong. But also because she would be romancing another man. It was all Chuck could do not to feel jealous. But this was just a mission. Nothing more. He just had to keep telling himself that, instead of letting his worries about their relationship affect their work.

He trusted Sarah. Both as his girlfriend and as an agent. So he settled in, listening closely as Sarah seduced Cole Barker.

XXX

Any mission that ended in completing its objectives was a success, wasn't it? That was something he had learned in his training: missions sometimes went wrong, but as long as you got what you needed, it was a win.

Somehow, after this mission, Chuck wasn't so sure.

Sarah had given the code word when Barker got too handsy, so Chuck and Casey had forced their way into the room. Chuck was worried when he saw that Sarah was in her underwear and Barker was only wearing his suit trousers, but the gun that Sarah held on Barker reassured Chuck that she was okay for now.

While Sarah got dressed in the bathroom, Chuck and Casey explained who they were to Barker. Once Barker realized just what was happening, things got even more tense.

"The bloody Yanks have Fulcrum's agent list?" he said, sounding incredulous. He paced around his hotel room, in front of the sofa where Chuck and Sarah were sitting. Casey stood behind the sofa, his arms folded over his broad chest.

"Some of it," Chuck confirmed. "Enough that we knew to target you."

"The CIA has the subtlety of a child with a grenade launcher," Barker said. "There's no way they can take down Fulcrum."

"And you boys in MI-6 have been doing such a great job so far?" Casey asked, a smirk on his face.

"I've been undercover in Fulcrum for nearly a year," Barker said. "We've done more than you lot have in that time."

"The point still stands that you have information to turn over to Fulcrum," Sarah said, breaking up the verbal tennis match between Barker and Casey.

"The way you were trying to get my pants off should have tipped me off to who you really were," Barker said, giving Sarah a once-over.

Sarah's whole attitude changed. Her chin lifted, her face went blank, and her voice was only slightly warmer than Siberia. "I was doing my job. Otherwise, I'd never have given you a second glance."

Casey snorted softly, the closest he ever came to laughing, and Chuck fought a pleased smirk. Barker looked taken aback at the discovery that Sarah wasn't very impressed with him. Sarah moved a little closer to Chuck on the couch, and Barker's eyes followed her movement, then lit up. "Oh, I see."

Chuck cleared his throat, trying to keep this professional. "What are you doing with the intelligence you have?"

"I was on my way to Los Angeles, to deliver it to my Fulcrum handler." Barker looked at the three of them, then addressed Casey. "I take it you lot don't want me to do that?"

"Actually," Chuck said, drawing Barker's attention, "we do want you to deliver the intel. But first, we'll make a copy of it."

Barker did a bit of a double-take. "Wait, he's not the boss?" he asked, gesturing to Casey.

Chuck just looked at Barker, not wanting to be baited into anything that would be insulting to Casey.

The British spy chuckled. "It seems I'm rather blind tonight." He looked at Chuck. "You don't look old enough to buy a beer, let alone be the leader of such a high-profile team."

With a shrug, Chuck said, "I have some special skills. And I don't really think of it as being in charge, since we each have our roles to play."

He nodded slowly. "Right. I can't turn over my intel without clearing it with my contact at MI-6."

"Go ahead," Chuck said. He looked at Casey and the NSA agent nodded before following Barker into the bedroom area of the suite.

Chuck turned to Sarah. "Are you okay?" he asked her quietly.

"I'm fine, Chuck," she said in a low voice. "Like I said, it's part of my job."

"A sucky part of the job," he said, gazing at her. He reached out and took her hand. "I'm sorry about earlier."

She looked at him for a long moment, then squeezed his hand. "Thanks. But I knew it wasn't you, so . . . "

"No, that's not what I meant," he said softly. "Sarah, things haven't been the same since we got back, and I don't like-"

The clearing of Casey's throat made Chuck stop and look up to see him leading Barker into the sitting room. Chuck dropped Sarah's hand and shifted away from her, putting some space between them in order to look professional.

"Seems like the special relationship between Britain and America is still in force," Barker said, a touch of sarcasm in his voice. "I've been cleared to allow you to copy the data."

"Great," Chuck said. "Let's get started." He stood up, pulling out the tools to copy the information from the microdots inside Barker's belt buckle. But even though that meant a successful mission, something he should be happy about . . . Chuck wished that it had taken Barker longer to get clearance, so that maybe he and Sarah could have finished their conversation.

XXX

The flight back to Rome on one of the CIA's private jets was quiet. Casey sat as far away from Chuck and Sarah as he could. Chuck wasn't sure, but he thought Casey might be giving them a bit of privacy. Although Casey disdained what he called "lady feelings," Chuck noticed that the NSA agent was good at reading people and emotions. If he was leaving them alone so they could talk, then perhaps that's what they should do.

Chuck finished reviewing the intel from Cole Barker, then closed his laptop. Sarah, who was reading some paperwork, looked up at him. "All done?"

He nodded. "For now. There's a lot here. And it doesn't help matters that Agent Barker neglected to tell us that the data is encrypted. Since he didn't give us the encryption key, it'll take me some time to crack the code."

Sarah made a face, her expression a mix of annoyance and dislike. "I hate petty interagency politics sometimes," she said as she set down her papers and turned in her seat. "But it'll probably be awhile before we have another mission. You'll have plenty of time to analyze all the data."

"That's too bad-you and Casey don't seem to like it when we're not in the field a lot."

She shrugged. "I don't know about Casey, but yeah, I'm used to being on missions most of the time. Before Omaha, I usually had a couple of field ops every month."

"Wow," he said, looking at her. He hadn't realized how active a spy she had been before they met. It wasn't the issue he was most worried about, but perhaps this insight into her career would help them resolve their issues in the field. Their work relationship had also been suffering, after all.

He took a deep breath. "Sarah? I know our missions lately have been a bit difficult . . . they haven't gone like clockwork, and we . . . we haven't worked well together, I think."

She looked at him curiously. "Is this about what happened tonight? Chuck, you shouldn't feel bad about having to act like a jerk. You were just acting."

"No, it's not that-well, actually, it is about tonight, a little bit. But also about the mission in Florence, where I sprained my ankle." He gathered up his courage. "You seemed really mad at me. I know I'm still a bit clumsy, but . . . but I don't really understand why you were upset."

Sarah looked at him, then sighed and ran her hand through her hair. "Chuck . . . first off, spraining your ankle and not saying anything is a bad idea. What if you had gone in with Casey and me and the alarms had gone off? You wouldn't have been able to keep up with us when we were trying to get out of the building."

"I know that," Chuck said, keeping his voice low and even. He didn't want this to turn into a screaming match-not when they were discussing work and not when Casey was within earshot. "But it seemed like there was more to it than just the mission."

"Of course there was-you were hurt, Chuck," Sarah said, her voice slightly annoyed. "Don't you think I was worried about you?"

Chuck winced. "Of course I think that-I mean, yes, I knew you were worried, but it was just a sprained ankle."

"This time." Her voice was low and there was an edge to it, like she was admitting something that made her uncomfortable. Before Chuck could say anything else, Sarah stood up. "I need to use the bathroom. Do you want anything from the galley when I come back?"

"Um . . . no, I'm fine," Chuck said, feeling a bit confused. He watched Sarah walk towards the back of the plane, his eyes meeting Casey's. The older man glanced at him, then returned his attention to Guns and Ammo.

He just didn't understand what was going on. Ever since their visit to CIA headquarters after their vacation, he and Sarah weren't clicking. It was bad enough they were having problems in their relationship, but it was even starting to bleed out into their jobs. And Chuck knew that wasn't a good thing.

Sarah had always been the more reserved one in their relationship. The one who let a smile or a hand squeeze stand in for words or more obvious displays of emotion. Yet he had thought he knew how she felt about him. That she only held back because she was concerned about their jobs and how the CIA might punish them if their relationship ever made them make a serious mistake.

He could understand her discretion. Admired it, even, because she always kept a cool head when they were together. Sometimes he got too emotional where Sarah was concerned; tonight's mission had proved that. But he'd learned how to push aside those fears until the mission was done and they were alone together, when he could hold her and feel like he was keeping her safe.

But tonight, he had the feeling that if he tried to reach out to Sarah, she'd be as prickly as a cactus.

Chuck sighed, leaning back in his seat. It was hard to tell if the struggle in their relationship was now bleeding into their work, or if the problems in the field were affecting them as a couple. The whole situation was a bit like the chicken and the egg, but he still had an idea of what was at the root of it all: secrecy. Keeping their relationship so quiet and hidden from view was making him wonder if they were stunting its growth.

Was their silence keeping them from being more, despite of how he felt about Sarah?

It had been ten months since they had started their relationship, but he'd known for a long time how he felt about her. He loved her. He loved everything about her-not that he knew that much about who she had been. Sarah Walker was strong and smart and completely beautiful, as well as a riddle wrapped up in a mystery inside an enigma, to use Churchill's words. Knowing so little about her didn't change the fact that he loved her, though. That was why he'd fought so hard for her to go on vacation with him, to spend time together that wouldn't be lived according to the CIA's rules.

He wanted all of her. He loved all of her. Yet he still hadn't told her those three little words.

There'd been a few times that he'd nearly said them. Moments big and small, like their six-month anniversary or days when she'd taken his breath away. There'd even been one time when a mission had gone particularly badly, ending with the two of them and Casey covered in dirt and sewage, and he'd nearly said it then.

But something always kept the words from coming out. He didn't know where exactly the fear had come from. Was it worry that they were moving so slowly that they'd missed their chance? Hesitation from what he'd gone through with Jill? Or was it just the self-doubt that she might not feel the same way about him?

Whatever it was, Chuck hadn't found the courage to tell Sarah and she hadn't said it herself. He had a sense that it'd take Sarah a lot longer to even talk about her feelings, let alone tell him if she loved him. Not being able to talk to her about this seemed like a bad sign, even though he tried to convince himself that relationships weren't on a timetable like buses or trains; things happened at their own pace. Until he figured out if he was brave enough to tell her, he'd have to deal with this lack of confidence on his own. But he wasn't going to let that ruin his current relationship with Sarah. He wouldn't let it destroy what they had or the possibility of being even more.

He just needed to make time for the two of them. Somehow, someway, they had to talk.

XXX

Sarah had curled up in another row of seats and slept for the rest of the flight. By the time they had landed and gotten back to the villa, all Chuck wanted was rest. Actually, there was a lot of things he wanted, but he'd settle for sleeping in his own bed at the moment.

He was just heading towards the stairs when Casey's voice stopped him in his tracks. "Looks like they want us to report in."

"What? Really?"

Casey ignored Chuck's near-whine and walked to the stairs to the basement. Sarah followed him and Chuck, with a groan, dropped his duffel bag and hurried to catch up with them.

"What d'you think they want to talk to us about?" Chuck asked as they stepped into the conference room.

Casey shrugged. "Maybe Barker yapped to his bosses and they chewed out Graham and Beckman for interfering, and they wanna give it back to us."

"Or they just want to know how the mission went," Sarah said, straightening her clothes.

"I guess we're going to find out soon," Chuck said, tapping on the computer and initiating the video link. Within a moment, the large screen was split between Beckman and Graham's separate offices.

"Welcome back, team," Graham commented.

"Thank you, sir," Sarah said crisply. "We're happy to report that we've acquired the intelligence from Barker." She paused, exchanging glances with Chuck and Casey, before continuing. "I do want to inform you that we discovered that Barker is actually an undercover MI-6 agent."

"We have been made aware of that fact, Agent Walker," General Beckman said. "However, this briefing isn't about your last mission, but your next one."

What? What did that mean? Chuck felt a spike of tension as he wondered what Beckman meant. Just off the top of his head, he could come up with them becoming the CIA equivalent of meter maids, getting sent to Iceland, or worst of all, the three of them being separated and getting different assignments. He looked at the video monitor, hoping that this news wouldn't further blow up his life.

End, Chapter 5


	6. Chapter 6

Sarah could sense Chuck's confusion and nerves just from his body language. He tried to hide it, but she knew him too well for him to be successful at hiding how he felt.

An unexpected briefing could create a case of the butterflies in even the most hardened agent. Well, maybe not Casey, who was standing with his arms behind his back in perfect parade rest. And while she wasn't feeling as worried as Chuck appeared to be, she was still very curious about what was going on.

Beckman let her words hang in the air a moment, heightening the suspense, then turned to Graham. "The latest information on Fulcrum has revealed that they've established their main base of operations in Los Angeles," the director said. "We're making arrangements to move more of our resources to the West Coast and that includes this team."

They were moving to Los Angeles? For some reason, this idea made her stomach clench. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Chuck tense. "Director, my family is in LA," Chuck said. "It might undermine my cover, if I'm running around in Southern California on missions."

"We've prepared for that, Agent Bartowski," Graham said. "Your cover will be updated and you can tell any friends or family that you were asked to transfer to California. Agent Walker, Major Casey, since it's likely you'll come in contact with Agent Bartowski's personal life, we'll be preparing covers for each of you. You'll be work colleagues of Agent Bartowski's."

Sarah nodded. "Yes, sir," she said quietly, knowing that they didn't want to hear anything else but agreement. A CIA agent was sent where the agency needed and the agent's preferences mattered little in those decisions.

"Getting back to the briefing," Beckman said, "you won't be abandoning your base in Rome. We intend for each team member to spend time at your current location, monitoring Fulcrum's European operations and performing occasional field ops. We don't want to tip our hand, revealing our move to close in on Fulcrum in Los Angeles."

Casey grumbled. "Dunno what's worse, fascist Rome or hippy-dippy California."

"Your objections are noted, Major," Beckman said dryly.

"Agent Walker and Major Casey will head to Los Angeles to establish your new facility. Agent Bartowski, you'll stay in Rome for the next two weeks, monitoring any chatter about Fulcrum as well as continuing your work on finding Orion." As he spoke, Graham's eyes flicked from Sarah to Chuck, and she straightened her shoulders, trying not to reveal what she was feeling.

"When do we leave?" she asked, keeping her eyes facing the video screens.

"You're booked on a military flight the day after tomorrow," Beckman informed them. "Further details have been sent to your email accounts."

"Yes, ma'am," Casey said.

Beckman nodded, then ended her video feed. Graham followed suit, leaving the three of them in a silence that was broken by Chuck.

"Well, that's not so bad," he said with what sounded like forced optimism. "I mean, for me, the one bad thing about Rome was that it was so far from LA."

Casey grunted. "California's full of liberals. Probably hafta trade my gun for a water pistol."

"It's not like that at all," Chuck protested.

"Easy for you to say-you grew up in Sodom-and-Gomorrah by the sea," Casey groused.

Sarah huffed out a breath and ran her hands through her hair, not in the mood for this argument. "Casey, enough. I'm going to finish the report on the Barker mission and get it sent in before I go to bed. You should see what intel we got sent."

With a shrug, Casey headed over to his desk. Chuck, on the other hand, didn't move.

"Is everything all right, Sarah?" he asked softly, taking a step towards her.

"Fine," she said, ignoring her mixed emotions at being uprooted. Moving to Los Angeles not only took them closer to Chuck's family, upsetting the balance between work and personal life for Chuck-it also put them in a much higher profile assignment, one that could have a huge impact on their careers. "You probably have some work you can do before we call it a night."

He looked at her, his forehead wrinkled, then slowly spoke. "I . . . I suppose I can check on my webcrawler, see if it found anything about Orion."

She nodded, turning on her heel to head towards her desk. "Good."

Sarah could almost feel his kicked-puppy expression against her shoulder blades as she walked away, but she pushed aside how that made her felt. She needed to submit her report so she could then go to her room and be alone and make sense of everything.

Freezing Chuck out wasn't what she wanted to do. But she couldn't figure out another way to cope with everything she was feeling. There had been plenty of snickers over the years that she was an ice queen: no emotions, no softness, just the job. It wasn't true, though: she had plenty of feelings. But she knew that showing what she felt, being seen as emotional, was damaging for a female agent. And after all those years with her father, she was too good at concealing how she felt. At burying her emotions and keeping her face blank. So she kept a mask up and gained a reputation as a dedicated, successful spy.

But now . . . it was more and more difficult to keep the mask up when it came to her feelings. Especially when it came to Chuck.

It was better to get herself together and then talk to Chuck. She didn't want to hurt him by losing her temper or saying something she didn't really mean. And with how she was feeling right now and how their relationship just didn't seem quite right, it was likely she'd struggle to maintain control. Once she got her head on straight, she could talk to Chuck and tell him that this time apart might be good-a chance to miss each other, to think about what they both wanted.

She rolled her eyes at the meditative mumbo-jumbo she was giving herself, but she'd had enough instructors espouse such principles to be willing to consider them. But for now, what she needed was to focus on her job. So she opened up her laptop and got to work on the final touches on her report.

XXX

The next day was a whirlwind of preparations. There were reports to review and intelligence to analyze, as well as packing up the equipment and supplies they would be taking with them to LA. For the first time, Sarah realized why people focused on their jobs when their personal lives weren't working out. Work was a great distraction.

Yet the distraction meant that things didn't get resolved; they just stayed in limbo. It was a bit like going back to how things had been at Project Omaha, and Sarah didn't like that. But she wasn't sure what to do.

Sarah yawned and glanced at the clock. It was getting late and she should be packing or sleeping instead of doing another pass over the Orion files. She was the only one still awake at this point; Casey had gone to his room hours ago, while Chuck had nearly fallen asleep at his computer before dragging himself away about forty-five minutes ago.

While Sarah and Casey had been preparing to leave, Chuck had thrown himself into decrypting the intel they'd recovered from Cole Barker. She was a bit surprised that he hadn't tried to reach out to her, especially after her behavior the previous night. She would have thought such coldness would make him hover around her, trying to find a way to get her talking. But instead of trying anything, he'd stayed glued to his computer, wearing jeans and one of his thin, form-fitting t-shirts featuring some kind of nerdy reference on the front. As the day went on, his hair grew more and more rumpled from his hands running through it and the surface of his desk became littered with papers and a few empty Red Bull cans.

His distance made her start questioning things. She wasn't sure why he wasn't pushing her to open up. Or why he'd only focused on their work relationship when they were on the plane. She wasn't sure what it meant. Maybe he felt the same way she did-that they needed time to collect their thoughts before talking. But that certainly wasn't normal behavior for Chuck. He'd never seemed willing to hold back his emotions, to not talk about how he was feeling.

She blew out a breath. Going away for a few weeks and leaving their relationship in this state didn't seem like a good idea. Even if they didn't get everything worked out, she should at least apologize for snapping at him. He didn't deserve that, not when he hadn't done anything wrong. It was her own issues that made her pull back.

Ever since they had come back from vacation, she'd been trying to maintain a balance between their relationship and their work. It was proving harder than she thought it would be. Just a few nights ago, they had been watching a movie together in the living room of the villa. Part of her had wanted to hold his hand and curl up in his lap. But then she thought about how Casey could walk by at any moment, and Chuck was so warm and so close and felt so good, and suddenly she moved away, putting enough space between them to look like two work partners who were friendly enough to occasionally watch a movie together.

It was all so confusing and she didn't like this feeling. Things had made sense before; why didn't they now? Was this what relationships were like? She didn't know and she didn't know who to talk to about this. She'd never felt as committed as she was to Chuck. And not knowing what to do made her feel like taking all her knives and finding a nice terrorist to use for target practice.

Shaking her head, Sarah slapped her laptop shut. Clearly, she was losing it a little and she still had plenty of things to do before she left for the airport in the morning. If she went to bed now, she could get a solid seven hours of sleep and have enough time to finish packing.

But first . . . she could see if Chuck was awake and willing to talk to her.

She nibbled on her lower lip as she walked through the villa towards the second floor. She still hadn't found that alone time she wanted, to organize her thoughts and prepare what she was going to say. But she wanted to tell him that. She didn't want him to think her feelings for him had changed. She just needed some time to work them out.

Only Chuck-only the need to keep their relationship going-would make her want to talk about how she was feeling. It was so hard for her to let her guard down and let someone in. Because once that person was part of you, it was so hard to let them go. Her father had taught her that. But she cared for Chuck more than she'd ever cared for anyone else. She wanted him to know that she was trying to be more open.

They had only talked about their work partnership last night on the plane from London to Rome. It hadn't been enough to relieve the tension between them, to take the pressure off. When she was gone, she didn't want him to do anything foolish, thinking that he had to try and prove something to her. She should tell him that and put his mind at ease. Chuck was an amazing spy already. If she reminded him of that, told him that she knew things weren't right but she wanted to fix them, she hoped that would be a good first step towards improving their relationship. It would be a start towards actually telling him something important about herself. Like how she felt about their relationship, or more about her past, or what her slowly-developing hopes for the future were.

Thinking about telling Chuck those things made her stomach clench, and Sarah felt a stab of regret and shame. Why was it so hard to show Chuck how she felt? Even though he'd done so much to make her feel safe enough to lower her walls, here she was keeping them in place.

She stopped in the middle of the corridor, taking a few deep breaths. There was no need to beat herself up over this. Chuck understood her reserve and trouble opening up; he'd reassured her about that in a hundred different ways. If she wasn't ready, putting pressure on herself wouldn't make her be ready. So she'd go into Chuck's room and tell him that even though things between them weren't perfect right now, they'd find the time soon to work out their issues.

Her mind made up, Sarah quietly opened the door to Chuck's room. The light from the hallway threw a beam of light into the room, illuminating the body of her boyfriend. Chuck was curled up in bed, the covers pulled up to his ears and his hair disheveled. He was sleeping deeply, his face slack. It was the most relaxed Sarah had seen him in quite a while, so she stepped into the room cautiously, not wanting to disturb his sleep.

She eased herself down on the bed carefully, well-acquainted with the mattress's quirks, and just watched him for a few moments. This was something she didn't get to see very often and she wanted to savor these minutes. Because even though she couldn't say the words, she knew that he was the one for her.

It seemed that he wasn't going to wake up anytime soon. She could wake him up, but he hadn't been sleeping much lately. She knew that was an excuse, a justification for her cowardice, but she had a lump in her throat and an anvil in her stomach. So she watched him for another moment before leaning in to brush a soft, light kiss over his lips. "Good night, Chuck," she whispered before she stood up and slipped out of his room.

XXX

Sarah could feel Casey's eyes on her as they walked onto their flight after securing their equipment. "Trouble in paradise?" he asked, pitching his voice low.

"Things are fine," Sarah said, walking to the passenger seats bolted against an internal bulkhead. She opened her carry-on and pulled out the magazines she had bought for the flight and set them aside before stashing her bag in the bin underneath the seat.

"That's crap," Casey said succinctly, strapping himself into one of the seats.

"Or I could just not want to talk to you about this," Sarah said, sitting down and picking up her magazines. She spoke quietly. "I'd think you would be grateful. Not only to be spared the details, but for plausible denial in case anything went wrong because of Chuck and me."

Casey snorted. "Having plausible denial only works if you can't tell just by lookin' at two people that they're together. But fine, you wanna clam up, it's your call." He leaned back, folding his arms over his chest and closing his eyes. Within a few moments, he was asleep.

With a soft sigh, Sarah settled into her seat. She looked down at the glossy covers of the magazines in her lap, rubbing her finger against one of them.

That morning, she had overslept, leaving her barely enough time to grab her suitcase before getting into the cab to the airport. She'd only had time for a quick goodbye to Chuck, in front of Casey, and it had been awkward and strained, nothing like the goodbye she wanted to have.

She hadn't wanted to leave things with Chuck so unsettled, but she just hadn't been able to get past the lump in her throat. And she couldn't say what she needed to say in front of Casey. Even though the NSA agent seemed more than willing to turn a blind eye towards the relationship between his team members, Sarah wasn't sure if she was ready to trust Casey. After all, he was a by-the-book type who was rumored to have come pretty close to burning out. And while he was a good agent in the field, his digs at both Chuck and herself made her hold him at arms' length.

Graham's warning was still fresh in her mind, too. After getting to spend this time working with Chuck, feeling challenged and inspired, she wasn't ready to give that up. Not without a fight. But if their superiors chose to enforce the official rules about relationships between partners, rules that were designed to prevent emotional connections that got in the way of agents' loyalty to the CIA, Chuck and she would be split up professionally if they wanted to continue their relationship.

Losing Chuck as a work partner would hurt. But losing the chance to see him every day, to be with him as his girlfriend? Sarah felt a cutting pain at the very thought, melodramatic as that reaction was. Not working together didn't mean that their relationship would end; it'd just face another challenge, beside all the other ones they were facing now.

She let her eyes drift down to the cover of the Italian woman's magazine that was on the top of her reading pile. It trumpeted its articles about finding the right man, keeping your man happy, making love last. She didn't think she'd find much advice about her situation: how to tell the man you cared about that you did care, even though you were scared about opening up and being vulnerable, especially when a relationship was off-limits due to your job's rules.

She took a deep breath. She had two weeks in LA before Chuck arrived. That was plenty of time to reflect on their relationship and find a way to approach this conversation. And just because things weren't firing on all cylinders meant that she had to cut off contact with Chuck. There was email and phone calls, after all, for them to maintain their personal relationship. As for their work relationship, she was sure they would talk in video briefings. Even with Casey there, that would give her a chance to see how he was looking, make sure that he was okay.

What she liked and enjoyed doing might still be a work in progress for Sarah. In her stack of reading materials, there were magazines on women's issues, cooking, politics and flying. She'd bought them as part of her ongoing plan to discover just who Sarah Walker was. She wanted to be more than a spy, and the only way she could figure that out was to try different hobbies, learn new skills, and see what stuck. This journey was private, but the goal was to be the kind of person who had more than the CIA in her life. Falling for Chuck and having a relationship with him had inspired her to start this process, and while his presence had given her the determination to keep going, he wasn't why she was doing this. She was doing this for herself.

Shuffling the magazines in her lap, Sarah squared her shoulders. It was a lot to juggle, her work life and her attempts at creating a personal life. But pretty much everyone else in the world had to do the same thing-even other agents. If they could do it, so could she.

XXX

Once they arrived in LA, Sarah and Casey hit the ground running. Within a few days, they had their office space set up to provide the cover for the intelligence activities that they would be performing. Fortunately, the CIA had an office park near Burbank that could be used for cover assignments while providing plenty of space for an operations base.

Sarah was used to moving around and going to different assignments, but arriving in Los Angeles made her realize how her life had changed. It used to be that a new place meant hotel rooms and quick missions before a plane ride out. But her assignment in Rome had been long-term. That meant a room that was hers only, even when she left. It meant clothes in a closet, not a suitcase. It may have taken her a month before she actually unpacked her suitcase, but slowly the Roman villa had become very close to a home for her.

It had all hit home when she rolled over in bed her second day in Los Angeles and slammed her hand into the table, instead of onto the snooze button of the beeping alarm clock. Sitting up in bed, she realized the alarm clock in her hotel room was on the other side of the bed from her room in Rome.

Being back in a hotel room felt strange. Being apart from Chuck felt even stranger. With the time difference between LA and Rome, she hadn't been able to talk to him yet. They kept playing voice mail tag-she always seemed to call him when he was asleep, while Chuck's calls came when she was busy with work. They had communicated a little via email, but the contact had been too stiff and formal. All she wanted was to hear his voice.

At least this morning they had a video briefing scheduled. Chuck had sent a message last night that he was close to cracking the encryption on the intel from Cole Barker, so he wanted to tell everyone what he had learned. Sarah hoped that this information would give them a lead to find Orion.

Due to Orion's talents, he'd been given an extraordinary amount of freedom by the CIA. Eccentric and highly paranoid, Orion had always insisted on multiple levels of encryption and go-betweens in his communications with the CIA. Of course, the CIA as well as the Intersect team had been attempting to contact him for weeks, but any attempts to reach Orion through his preferred communication channels had yielded no response. So they had to try and get Orion's attention, drawing him out of hiding long enough to communicate with them. But tracking down someone that barely existed was an incredible challenge. Even with the CIA's reams of files, there was no personal information, no photos, nothing.

From a professional standpoint, it was exciting. Sarah had never been so involved in such a high-profile assignment and it helped, with everything that she was struggling with, to feel like at least in her job she was really making a difference. She, and the rest of the Intersect team, were being held to a high standard, and she could only hope to live up to it.

Promptly at ten a.m., four days after they had arrived in LA, Sarah and Casey stood before the video monitors. Once Chuck had joined them, they would contact Beckman and Graham and update their bosses. Sarah smoothed down her top and tucked some hair behind her ear. Casey snorted softly, but didn't say anything once she glared at him.

"Eureka!"

Chuck's voice made her attention snap to the monitor. On the screen, Chuck was beaming at them and looking excited. She couldn't help smiling at the sight of his enthusiasm.

"You cracked the code?" she asked, feeling her worries fade into the background at seeing him.

He nodded. "Yep. It was a tricky one, too, full of hex shifts and-and a lot of things that are interesting only to me," he said quickly, glancing at Casey.

"What did you find out, Bartowski?" Casey said, gritting his teeth. "All this cheerfulness at this hour of the morning is annoying."

"I'm trying to focus on the good news," Chuck said, his enthusiasm fading. "Because it's not great. I mean, it could be worse, but still, it's not good, and I definitely think the powers-that-be are gonna lose it."

Sarah frowned. What had gotten Chuck so nervous about telling them what he had found out? He looked a bit tired, his forehead wrinkled, but she didn't see any signs that he had been staying up all night and ignoring food and grooming in order to work. That was a good thing. But he hadn't even said hello to either of them, so focused was he on work.

"What is it?" she asked quietly.

Chuck blew out a breath. "Fulcrum apparently knows they need more than Perseus to create their own Intersect. They're looking for Orion, too."

"Not that big of a shock, really," Casey said gruffly. "Beckman and Graham probably already considered that."

Sarah nodded slowly. "Why else move us to Los Angeles and closer to Fulcrum? The CIA is trying to get the jump on Fulcrum."

"I hope so," Chuck said. "Ready to share this news?"

Casey nodded and typed on the computer, bringing up Beckman and Graham on another monitor. The sight of their superiors made everyone come to attention.

"You have news?" Graham asked, leaning forward onscreen.

"Yes, sir," Chuck said. Sarah could hear how he was working to keep his voice controlled and not go off on one of his rambles. "I've broken the encryption that Cole Barker was using on the intel he was passing to Fulcrum. It's . . . it's not good news."

"Spit it out, Bartowski," Beckman said, sounding very grumpy.

"Fulcrum is looking for Orion, too," Chuck blurted out.

Graham and Beckman exchanged glances. "This is something we anticipated," Graham said, confirming Casey's suspicion. "It was only a matter of time before Fulcrum would discover just who is the true creator of the Intersect."

"And want to capture him," Beckman said. "This isn't a surprise, people, now when we have the weight of the best intelligence organizations on the planet. Agent Bartowski, have you learned anything about Orion's whereabouts?"

"I have a few leads, General, but nothing's panned out yet."

The general looked annoyed and Graham stepped in. "Continue your work. Now that Agent Walker and Major Casey are settled in Los Angeles, they can assist you."

"We're ready to assist Agent Bartowski," Sarah said quickly. "We've established our base and have done some initial reconnaissance to learn more about Fulcrum's plans here."

"Good," Graham said. And like that, the video feed from D.C. went black.

"Damn crackpot geniuses. If he'd acted like a normal scientist, we wouldn't have to be goin' through all this to find him," Casey grumbled.

"My search program has turned up some info. But I could use help in reviewing the files, to see if there's anything I missed," Chuck said.

"Casey and I can help with that, Chuck," Sarah offered. "Just let us know what you've already reviewed."

Chuck smiled at her, but it was a weak version of his normal beaming grin. With Casey standing next to her, she guessed it was part of Chuck's efforts to stay professional. But it made her wish that they had gotten a chance to talk to each other, either in Rome or once she had landed in Los Angeles.

"I'll send you the files I haven't gotten to yet. That will let me fine-tune the search program," Chuck said quietly.

Casey nodded. "Right." He stabbed at the keyboard, closing the video feed.

Sarah took a deep breath and walked over to her computer. Taking a seat, she waited for the files to come in from Chuck. Finding Orion and defeating Fulcrum were the important things right now. When she was off-duty, in her hotel room, then she could call Chuck and get some things resolved.

XXX

Sitting in the middle of the fluffy white bed at the center of her hotel room while the sun rose higher in the sky, Sarah looked down at her slim silver cell phone. Chuck had gotten it for her a few months ago, telling her excitedly that it was a top-of-the-line model with the latest features. He'd done his best to explain all the bells and whistles to her, but all she cared about was how to make phone calls, how to get her text messages, and how to take photos.

Although she should be getting ready to go to work-should dry her damp hair, put on a suit, and go to the office-she knew that there was something else she needed to do first. Slowly, she flipped open her phone and pulled up the photo gallery. She scrolled through the photos she had saved: of buildings in Rome that had caught her attention, shoes in shop windows that she had snapped, a few embarrassing shots of Casey, and scattered throughout, Chuck. Chuck smiling at her, Chuck lost in a book, Chuck standing in front of a Roman church they had walked past one day.

When she came to her favorite photo, she gazed down at the small screen. It was of both of them, Chuck kissing her temple as he held the phone out to take the picture. Even with the distraction of getting the photo, he seemed focused on her, on this moment together. She loved looking at his face in this picture, but today it was her face that drew her eyes. The Sarah on the cell phone screen was half-smiling, half-laughing, her eyes lit up with happiness.

What had happened to that Sarah? Had it just been a single moment, one that she'd managed to drop her walls and show just what she was feeling? Or could she be like that more often? And why had she let herself forget that she could be like this?

Sarah took a deep breath. Being back in California was making her realize that things had changed when they went on vacation together. Their trip had made her see how much she was changing, how far she had already come in figuring out herself. Not only herself, but the trip had made her look at her relationship with Chuck in a different way. She couldn't put her finger on the changes, but she knew they were there. And that was . . . it was confusing.

She closed the photo gallery and scrolled through her contacts list. It was time to stop stalling and try to talk to Chuck.

As his phone rang, she thought over what she wanted to say to Chuck. She wanted to at least get them talking about something other than work.

With the number of rings, she was preparing to leave another voice mail, when suddenly she heard Chuck's voice. "Hello?" he said breathlessly.

Swallowing, she spoke quietly. "Hi, Chuck. It-it's me."

"Sarah!" He sounded both surprised and pleased. "Hey, I wasn't expecting to hear from you tonight."

"It's okay that I called? I mean, it's not too late?" she asked, trying to sound both concerned but not nervous.

"No, no, no, it's fine!" he said quickly. "I'm glad you called. How are you doing? Do you like LA so far?"

"I'm good . . . I don't really know if I like LA, since I've been working so much I haven't really done much exploring," she said, feeling her nerves ease a little.

"You should call Ellie-she loves to play tour guide, showing people around," Chuck said. "You've got her number, right?"

"I do, but we should probably figure out, with our covers, how to explain why I'm here," Sarah said slowly, hating that her practical side made her raise that point and bring their conversation back to work.

"We're all supposed to be working in the same office-you can tell Ellie that you came out here first and I'll be coming soon. I'll call her and give her the news, if you want."

Sarah pulled her legs up to her chest, wrapping her free arm around them. "She'll be really excited to have you back here."

"I'm bracing myself for the shrieks right now," Chuck said, his voice amused. Sarah let out a soft chuckle, imagining how Chuck's sister would react to the news.

"I'm really glad you called, Sarah. It's good to hear your voice."

His never-ending sweetness brought a lump to her throat. "It's good to hear yours, too," she said. "Things have been a bit crazy lately."

"You can say that again," Chuck said. She could almost picture the lazy smile on his face at those words. "When I get to LA, maybe we'll have some time to catch our breath."

"Yeah," she said in agreement. Once they were both in the same place, she had high hopes that they'd start dealing with their underlying issues. But based on this phone call, it seemed that she might have been worrying too much.

She glanced at the alarm clock and sighed. "I'm sorry, Chuck, but I really should get going . . ."

"So soon?" he asked. "But then, you're late already, and when you add in getting Casey some coffee and a doughnut to make up for being late-"

"I'll be even later," Sarah said with a smile. "Talk to you soon?"

"Definitely, Sarah. I'll call you soon."

"Right," she said. Taking a breath, she spoke softly. "Take care of yourself, Chuck, okay?"

She could hear him clear his throat on the other end of the phone. "I will. You, too. Bye."

"Bye," she said, hanging up the phone quickly in order to not drag out the goodbyes any longer. She needed to get to work, but as she finished getting ready and headed towards the office, she kept going over their conversation. Things had seemed fine, but she had definitely skirted away from any deep discussion. Chuck had seemed to do the same, too. So while on the surface it had been good to talk to Chuck, and she had even smiled and laughed a little . . . they definitely were just starting to fix things.

XXX

Ellie laughed as they carried their coffees to a table. "I'm not kidding. Every year at Halloween, Chuck and Morgan dress up in a giant worm costume."

Sarah wrinkled her nose as she sat down across from Ellie. "How long have they been doing that?"

"Since . . . eighth grade?" Ellie looked thoughtful as she remembered. "Yeah, eighth grade. It's well past the time to retire the sandworm. Here's hoping you can convince Chuck," she said with a smile as she sipped her coffee.

"Maybe," she said, taking a sip of her coffee.

She had been surprised when Ellie had called her yesterday, inviting her out for coffee over the weekend. Chuck had told her more than once that Ellie liked her, but the excitement in Ellie's voice over the phone, so like Chuck's, had persuaded her to accept the invite. So now on Sunday morning, they had met at a small coffee shop near Ellie's apartment.

Not unlike her brother, Ellie Bartowski was very easy to talk to. Sarah found herself drawn into a conversation about wedding planning, with Ellie rattling off details and firing questions at her. She did her best to keep up, but was grateful when Ellie sat back in her chair, taking a break as she drank some coffee.

"Sorry for that-I get so excited, talking about the wedding," Ellie said apologetically.

"No, it's all right. I suppose if you weren't excited, then that would mean something's wrong," Sarah offered.

Ellie laughed. "Good point. So how are you doing? It must have been hard, to leave D.C. and move just like that," she said, snapping her fingers to emphasize her point.

Sarah shrugged. "It's always a possibility when you work for the government. I got lucky that both Chuck and I were transferred together."

"That is great. Nobody likes the thought of a long-distance relationship. And now Devon and I have someone to double-date with," Ellie said with a grin.

Sarah chuckled as she drank the last of her coffee. "That's something to look forward to once Chuck finishes up in D.C."

Ellie smiled and sipped some coffee before setting down her cup. "Listen, Sarah, I didn't call you just to have coffee. I have a favor to ask of you."

"A favor?" Sarah asked curiously. Given how little she and Ellie knew each other, she wasn't quite sure what Ellie could want to ask her.

She nodded. "I know this might seem sudden, but I was hoping you might be one of my bridesmaids."

"Excuse me?" Sarah asked in surprise, not sure she had heard Ellie correctly. "Did you say you want me to be one of your bridesmaids?"

"That's what I said," Ellie said, sounding amused. "After all, Chuck's going to be a groomsman, and I think it'd be great to have you in the wedding party. Now that you're living here in LA, we'll get to spend more time together and get to know each other. And I promise, the dresses are really pretty-no butt bows or anything. I won't lie and say that you'd be able to wear it again, because that never happens with a bridesmaid dress, but you won't look hideous in front of Chuck."

"I'm sure the dresses are very nice, Ellie, but-" Sarah bit her lower lip, feeling a bit overwhelmed. Her sum knowledge of Ellie Bartowski was limited to the week she'd spent in California on vacation and this coffee date. How could Ellie know that she wanted Sarah to be part of one of the most important days in her life?

The brunette leaned forward, reaching out to lightly rest her hand on Sarah's forearm. Ellie had a determined expression on her face. "No buts, Sarah. It'll be so much fun, and I'd really like you to be part of this. Please?"

There was a beseeching tone to Ellie's voice, similar to Chuck when he was asking something from her. Clearly, the Bartowski siblings had more in common than their genius-level intellect; they could both get her to agree when she wasn't sure she should. But more than that, Ellie looked like she wasn't going to take no for an answer.

So even though Sarah Walker had never been in a wedding before and never really had any female friends, she found herself nodding. "Yeah, Ellie. I'll be a bridesmaid."

Ellie's smile was so wide and beaming, Sarah almost squinted. "Thank you!" Ellie said, jumping up from her chair and hugging Sarah tightly. "I'm so glad you said yes."

Sarah managed a weak laugh. "Would you have let me say no?"

"Of course I would! But you'd have to give me a really good reason," Ellie said with a grin.

"I just wasn't expecting you to ask me . . ." Sarah said, looking at Ellie.

"Why not? You've been dating Chuck for nearly a year and I like you a lot. And when Devon and I realized we had one more groomsman than I had attendants, I thought of you immediately."

Sarah nodded slowly. "So you need to have an equal number of people in the wedding party?"

"It seems to be the rule," Ellie said. "I don't know why, but I've learned that when my future mother-in-law starts talking about tradition and etiquette, it's best to go along with her."

Ellie began telling Sarah a long story involving the guest list for the wedding, and Sarah nodded and smiled occasionally. She managed to follow the thread of the story even as she organized her thoughts.

Over the last two months, her relationship with Chuck had gotten much more serious. Between going on vacation together, meeting his family, and now becoming part of his sister's wedding, she was getting in deep. Deeper than she'd ever been before. Even with the issues the two of them had been having, her desire to stay with Chuck hadn't wavered. But that meant that their relationship was changing, becoming more than just simply fun times together. It meant they were starting to discover just what mattered to each of them, and whether they were in this for the long-term.

It also meant it was getting closer to the time that she'd have to start telling him about herself. He had lots of questions about her, and although he'd shown a lot of patience, eventually he'd want to know all those details about her past. While she'd managed to give him a little, she knew that Chuck would want to know everything.

Yet all she could think was that there wasn't much to her. She had a father who was a con artist and a mother she could barely remember. She liked the color pink and gardenias and blueberries, but she was still figuring out what kind of movies she liked, what was her favorite song, and if she was a reader. All those things that Chuck knew instinctively, she had to stop and think about. True, she was getting closer to knowing the answers, but she still didn't know them for sure.

Over the years, she'd had to read plenty of women's magazines, usually in order to preserve a cover. All of them believed that intimacy was the key to a relationship-not just sexually, but emotionally. When two people got serious about each other, they talked about all kinds of issues, like their pasts, their desires, what they wanted for their individual futures and how that could fit together. So far, there hadn't really been any of those kinds of conversations between Chuck and herself.

Could that explain some of the problems they'd had? She wasn't sure, but it was something to consider.

Sarah sighed. It seemed she was going to have a lot of sleepless nights in her future while she worked out how to talk to Chuck about their relationship.

End, Chapter 6


	7. Chapter 7

It had been a week since Sarah and Casey had left and Chuck was finally starting to get used to how quiet the villa was. With just him in the palatial building, it was like he was the last cracker in the box, rattling around in the empty rooms. And while there was a bit of appeal in working in just a t-shirt and boxers if he didn't feel like wearing pants, he'd trade that to have Sarah or even Casey around.

He knew that he only had about another week in Rome before he'd be joining the rest of the team in LA, which wasn't that long. There was plenty of work to do, tracking Fulcrum's activity and trying to find Orion, especially now that they knew that Fulcrum was also looking for him. Part of him had considered just burying himself in work, ignoring everything else, but that was more like what he'd do in college. He'd grown out of that, it seemed.

Carrying a glass of orange juice, Chuck walked down the stairs to the basement offices. He whistled quietly as he cleaned up his desk and made some room, pushing aside a stack of Orion files. Before he got started on work today, he was going to do some research on his dad. Ellie had asked if he'd found anything in her last phone call, which reminded him that he'd left the search for his dad on the back burner for too long. It was understandable, with everything he was working on, but it was time to really focus on something for himself.

Within a few minutes, Chuck was analyzing the results from the web crawler, seeing a few leads that could have potential for further research. But the web search had turned up a lot of junk, so he took an hour to take it offline, tweak it and then start it again. Hopefully, this time would get him better results.

Chuck rolled his head on his shoulders, considering once again if he should run his father's name through the CIA's databases. It wasn't exactly ethical to do so, although Chuck wasn't so naïve to think that most agents hadn't done it at least once. But it seemed like a last resort to him, only to be used if he had given up on his search program. Besides, it was nearly four months before Ellie's Christmas wedding. If he kept finding time to work on the search, he suspected he would know more in a couple of weeks.

Finding their father was something that he really wanted to do for Ellie. For as long as he could remember, Ellie had been the strong, stable person in his life. His sister was what parents were supposed to be like. And he knew that even though she put up a good front for him, she had been deeply hurt by the disappearance of their father. She deserved the chance to clear the air with their dad and hopefully find a way to start a new relationship.

And maybe he could have that, too. Prior to his disappearance, their father had been one of Chuck's heroes. He was smart, could fix anything, and was perfectly willing to put aside work and play a board game with Chuck or watch cartoons together. In hindsight, Chuck knew that his father was absent-minded, lost in his work, and very hurt by the loss of his wife. Chuck had learned to forgive his father for leaving, but he still wanted to know why he had left.

It might all be a pipe dream. Stephen Bartowski had never been dependable, but maybe after all these years, he'd learned how to be something like a dad. And even if that wasn't possible, Chuck was determined to have their father at his sister's wedding.

The big positive about their team being moved to LA was knowing that he'd be close to Ellie. He'd be there if their father disappointed them again. The benefits of seeing his sister more and being a part of her life again outweighed the negative of lying to her about his job. When he had told her about his job transfer, she had been so happy, and it made Chuck think that he should see if there was a way to stay in LA after Fulcrum was taken out. He wanted to be close to his family, and if Sarah was willing-

Chuck swallowed. That was the big question, wasn't it? What Sarah wanted and needed. They had been together for close to a year, but he wasn't at all sure what their future held. He wasn't even sure what their present relationship was about. While they saw each other in video briefings and had even exchanged a few emails and phone calls, those weren't the places to really deal with their issues. There was just so much: Sarah's reluctance to talk about her feelings, his worries about moving to LA and lying to Ellie, keeping their relationship secret . . .

With a shake of his head, he picked up his juice and took a sip. Glancing over at his computer, he frowned as he noticed the monitor had gone black. Chuck moved his chair over to take a closer look, noticing to his surprise that the power button was still glowing green. Frowning, Chuck set down his glass and moved the mouse, wondering what was going on.

Nothing happened at first. Then, one word at a time, a sentence appeared on the screen in bright blue-white letters.

LOOKING FOR ME?

Chuck's eyes widened. "Looking for me?" he repeated, staring at the screen. "Who's me?"

The sentence vanished, only to be replaced by a one-word answer.

ORION

His mouth fell open and he wildly looked around the office, for a reason that he couldn't begin to articulate. He swallowed. "I hope I'm not imagining this . . . "

THIS IS REAL.

The screen cleared itself, and more words appeared.

LOCATION NOT SECURE.

WILL CONTACT SOON.

TELL NO ONE.

"Wha-what?" Chuck said, feeling completely flustered. "How? 'Tell no one'? What is this, the X-Files?"

There was no further answer from whomever had hijacked his computer, except for the screen flashing and returning to normal, displaying windows with his email and progress bars on his search programs.

Chuck blinked, then immediately got up and started checking his computer. As a nerd, he'd made sure to set up this computer according to his own specifications, taking the CIA-issued equipment and adding in a few special touches as well as upgrading the security to be as bulletproof as possible. If someone had managed to breach those walls, he was dealing with a serious hacker-somebody who was better than him.

He wasn't about to accept that Orion had really made contact with him, not until he knew more. It might have been a trap by Fulcrum, a joke being played on him by someone within the CIA, or just a hacker stumbling upon him. He had to eliminate all the possibilities before he'd think that his little search program had drawn Orion out of hiding.

And in the meanwhile, he'd start upgrading the security on his computer while he tried to ignore the possibility that he might have found Orion but would have to lie to Sarah and Casey.

Chuck paused and sat back down in his chair, gazing at his computer as he thought this over. Should he keep this from the rest of the team, as the Orion claimant had directed? It seemed clear, since the computer had responded to his voice, that whoever did this had some way of knowing what he was saying. Perhaps there were video feeds in here that he didn't know about and the hacker had tapped into those.

But if he told Sarah and Casey what had happened, it might mean the person would go back into hiding. Since he'd have to tell Sarah and Casey in a video conference, over lines that could easily be tapped by a good hacker, it was pretty likely that the person who contacted him would find out. And whether the person responsible for this unusual contact was Orion, Fulcrum, or a hacker, he needed to follow the stranger's directions and stay quiet, in order to keep the lines of communication open. That way, they could either arrest the hacker, get more intel on Fulcrum, or start talking to Orion, depending on what was going on.

He grimaced. He really didn't like the idea of keeping secrets. Not when it was information that the rest of the team should know. But at least for now, it seemed like the smart thing to do was to keep quiet and see if he was contacted again. If he hadn't heard anything in a week or so, by then he'd be in LA and he could share his concerns with Sarah and Casey in person. Until then, he was going to work on his computer's security, run some traces to track down whoever had contacted him and focus on the search for Orion.

XXX

The next few days passed slowly. Chuck spent hours on his computer, trying to learn more about the mysterious interaction he'd had with the person claiming to be Orion. The longer he worked, the more he felt that it really was Orion. There was virtually no signs of a hacker making his or her way into the villa's computer network; there had been no traces left behind of how they had even accessed his computer.

Once he had updated his security protocols, adding in a few additional layers and improving the encryption, he had gone back to the Orion research, reviewing what little they knew. Casey and Sarah had done a great job helping him with the research, but they still didn't know that much. Without more data, it was hard for the search program to find anything really useful. But Chuck kept working, even as he had to hold back when they discussed Orion in video briefings, not revealing that he might have a lead for them.

With a sigh, Chuck got up from his computer. If he kept looking at the files and papers, he was just going to get more frustrated. He needed a break. Perhaps he'd go for a run, clear his head. That usually did the trick for him, and besides, he needed to keep up with his workouts. He couldn't afford to fall back into old college habits.

After a stop in his bedroom to change into track pants and a t-shirt, Chuck started stretching, letting his thoughts roam. He had gotten an email from Sarah this morning, just a short note about how she had seen Ellie over the weekend and Sarah was now a bridesmaid. He had to admit, he was glad to hear that she would be part of Ellie's wedding. He'd noticed that Sarah didn't really seem to have any friends; she hadn't seemed to maintain relationships with agents she had worked with in the past and she didn't seem to get phone calls from people she knew in a non-spy capacity. He didn't know the reasons for that lack of friends, but he couldn't imagine not wanting friends. So he'd encouraged Ellie to give Sarah a call and help her get settled in LA.

Ellie had seemed thrilled to have Sarah as part of her wedding, and Chuck had to admit he was excited, too. He'd worried a little that Sarah might feel uncomfortable during all the celebrations, like she was an outsider. Now that she was a member of the wedding party, though, she'd have a connection with the event. A connection with him.

Chuck grimaced a little as he stretched out his hamstrings. The distance between Sarah and himself was really troubling him. And he could only blame himself, for being too much of a coward to talk to her before she left for LA. There had been time, that last day together, for them to talk and find some balance. But instead, he'd focused on his computer, burying himself in breaking the encryption on Barker's data. He'd regressed to college Chuck, hiding from his problems by focusing on something much less important.

It could be worse, he knew. They were still in touch with each other, sending occasional emails and exchanging voice mails. The chance to talk to Sarah the other day had been a huge treat. Just hearing her voice, feeling like she wasn't so far away, had been enough to put a smile on his face for several hours.

Chuck sighed as he finished his stretches. He'd never spent so much time soul-searching in the past when it came to his relationships. Maybe because it felt like so much was on the line now. If his relationship with Sarah didn't work out, it'd be bad enough to not have her as his girlfriend. But if he was still working with her, seeing her every day without there being anything more between them except work partners . . . he didn't think he could bear that. He didn't want to face such a world.

Once he got to LA, he was going to find a way to talk to her. Get some time alone, putting work aside so they could focus on them. He wasn't ready to give up on their relationship, on what they could be. They'd been together for less than a year, but when they were on vacation he'd been seriously thinking about what might come next for them. Even if they weren't going through this rough patch, he had a feeling that Sarah would take a lot of convincing to make their relationship more serious. To consider taking a step towards a real, permanent commitment. If he was going to overcome Sarah's hesitation and his own insecurities, he'd have to have a complete strategy in place, complete with back-up plans and contingencies.

He wasn't trying to rush things. But he knew how he felt about Sarah, even if he couldn't say the words. That was something he had to work on in this relationship: not being afraid to tell Sarah how he felt about her. With their jobs, the increasing pressure from Fulcrum, and the search for Orion, it might be hard to find a lot of time for Chuck and Sarah. But he was going to find it, somehow. He just hoped Sarah would be able to meet him halfway.

With his resolve strengthened, Chuck took a few deep breaths as he walked out of the villa. It was time to run and not think, giving his brain a rest and letting his subconscious work on the Orion problem.

XXX

The ringing of the phone pulled Chuck out of a deep sleep and he flailed around as he reached for his cell phone. "Hello?" he said sleepily.

"Chuck? I woke you up."

At the sound of Sarah's voice, Chuck had sat up immediately. "Sarah!"

"I'm sorry for waking you up-I thought you'd be awake by now." She sounded hesitant, like she was ready to hang up the phone.

"It's okay, it's cool, really. You're right, normally I'd be up, but I didn't get to sleep until late, trying to get a few things wrapped up before I left today," Chuck said, his words running into each other. Due to his nose being pressed to the grindstone, he hadn't had the chance to talk to Sarah since last week, and he wasn't going to pass up the chance just because he was sleepy.

After all, he'd have a chance to sleep on the plane tonight: he was flying to New York and switching planes there, an arrangement that would let him fly into Bob Hope Airport in Burbank rather than LAX. It would take a little longer to get to Southern California, but there'd be less traffic to contend with once he was on the ground.

"Are you sure? I can call back later . . ."

Chuck frowned a little at Sarah's continuing hesitation. "No, no, what did you want to talk about?"

"Well . . . I wanted to let you know about the living arrangements that have been worked out," she said after clearing her throat.

"They've finally found us apartments?" Chuck asked, rubbing a hand over his hair. Since Burbank lacked villas where the Intersect team could live and work, they would have separate offices and living accommodations. While Sarah and Casey had gotten their office set up, there had been some kind of hold-up while the CIA tried to find an apartment building for the three of them.

"Yeah, they finally found three apartments for us. We'll be in Glendale."

"Glendale? That's good," Chuck said, feeling his spirits raise. "It's close to work and it's not far from Ellie and Morgan. Plus, if you like Armenian food, Glendale's the place to get it. Outside of Armenia, I mean."

Sarah let out a soft chuckle and Chuck couldn't help grinning. "It's actually really good-lots of fresh ingredients, and there's no food that Armenians won't stuff with another food."

"I've never had Armenian food," Sarah said. "We'll have to try it sometime."

He felt his grin widening as Sarah made plans for them. Maybe this time apart hadn't been all bad. It certainly had given him some perspective on their relationship and made him determined to fix their problems. Maybe Sarah had come to the same conclusion.

"It's a date," he said lightly, trying to keep things light. "So I'm due in at Bob Hope tomorrow around three o'clock."

"I'll be picking you up and taking you to your apartment," Sarah said. "We've got apartments on the fourth floor of the building. Casey's got a studio loft a few floors up."

"He doesn't mind having a smaller apartment?" Chuck asked curiously.

She snorted softly. "Casey's happiest when he's roughing it. But this place is really nice, so he was glad to take the studio."

Chuck nodded. "Gotcha. Just making sure."

"Because you're sweet," Sarah said softly. Before he had a chance to respond, Sarah spoke again. "I'll see you soon."

He swallowed. "See you soon, Sarah." He hung up once she had ended the call, then laid back on the bed. This was only the second actual phone call they'd had while they were apart, but Sarah had definitely seemed a little more relaxed as the call went on. That was a good sign, he thought.

Laying around all day and thinking about Sarah wasn't in the cards, sadly. He still had plenty of work to do before he went to the airport, especially since he was no closer to figuring out the Orion problem.

His web search program, while yielding some results, still hadn't given him enough to know where to go. More frustrating was trying to determine whether he really had been contacted by Orion, and how to tell Casey and Sarah about the contact. He knew if all three of them were working on this, they'd have a better chance at solving this puzzle. But neither of them would be happy about him keeping this from them. Once they heard his reasons, Casey at least might see his logic at work. Sarah, on the other hand . . .

Chuck sighed and got out of bed. Not bothering to change, he went down to the basement office in his t-shirt and pajama pants, figuring he'd do some work until he had to shower and change before going to the airport. He started up the small coffee pot in the office before sitting down at his computer.

He moved the mouse, waking up the computer, then started doing his normal morning activities like checking the Orion search and opening up his email. Yawning, he turned around in his desk chair, pushing over to the coffee pot and pouring himself a cup. He took a long swallow, then moved back to his computer.

Whose screen was now black.

"Not again," Chuck said, feeling equal parts worry and frustration.

Before he could do anything, a video began playing on the screen. It was the image of a face, created out of ones and zeroes like something out of a movie. An electronically-distorted voice came out of the computer's speakers.

"Hello. This is Orion, and you've been looking for me. I know you're CIA and that you're the human Intersect. If you're looking for me because of Fulcrum, know that they've been after me for six months, cutting me off from my normal communication methods. My first contact was to gauge the strength of your network, to make sure Fulcrum couldn't eavesdrop. I won't be taken by them."

Chuck swallowed. Admittedly, there was no evidence that this was actually Orion. But the tone of the person's voice, the determination in it, came through in spite of the voice scrambler. Was this really Orion? And if it was, what was going to happen next?

"This arrangement won't work for the long-term, however. I've arranged for a computer to be left in a locker at the Termini railroad station in Rome. The locker number and its combination will be sent to you separately. Be careful. You are being watched." The speaker paused. "Be very careful."

The video ended and his screen returned to normal as Chuck leaned back in his chair. All this cloak and dagger seemed a bit ridiculous to him. He wasn't denying that it was important for Orion to use precautions, especially since he knew that Fulcrum was after him. But the secrecy, the lack of trust . . . there came a point when it stopped making sense.

He blew out a breath. He knew he was getting hung up on a small, insignificant detail because he didn't know what to think about this. Didn't know what to do.

There was still no real proof that this person was actually Orion. He had nothing that he could show to Sarah and Casey when he told them about these contacts. The only evidence would be this computer that Orion was sending him. Until he got that, he wasn't sure he could convince them to believe his gut feeling. If he could get the computer before he left for LA, he'd have evidence to back up his feeling. Both Casey and Sarah would have problems with him waiting to tell them; if he could argue that he had just been waiting until he had confirmation, they might accept that.

Chuck sighed. The more he put off the conversation, the more he tried to justify how he'd acted, the less likely things would go well when he spilled the beans. Even with proof, Chuck's silence would have an impact on the team. And what happened if something went wrong? If this wasn't Orion, if this was some kind of setup, going to the train station alone would be a very bad idea. Howard the Duck bad, without any secret charm to mitigate the bad.

He rubbed a hand over his face, then did a double-take when he looked at his computer. His desktop wallpaper had been changed to a solid black image with white numbers: "42, 9-12-27."

That couldn't be . . .

Grabbing a pen, he scribbled down the numbers just in case. It looked like the person who contacted him, if it was Orion, had come through with the locker number and combination.

It looked like he was going to make a side trip on his way to the airport.

XXX

Chuck turned his head back and forth as he walked from his gate towards baggage claim, looking for Sarah. He was tired since he hadn't gotten much sleep on the flight, with his mind preoccupied by what he was carrying in his messenger bag.

He'd had no problems recovering the laptop computer from the locker at the train station. That was about the only easy thing so far. Ever since he had gotten it, just the look of the computer made his fingers itch to try it out. It had a distinctive black exterior, featuring cutouts for flickering green lights.

Even though he wanted to sit down and explore this intriguing computer, he knew that it wasn't a good idea when he was in public places like airports. So he'd kept the laptop in his bag and focused instead of organizing his thoughts about Orion and how to tell Casey and Sarah.

It hadn't been easy to not think about who was waiting for him when he got off the plane in Burbank. The closer he got to Sarah, the more nervous he felt. Because what if seeing her, being close to her, didn't help? What if they still couldn't figure out how to talk to each other?

That was a scary thought. And it wasn't very accurate, he hoped. Because if he started thinking like that, it would mean he was starting to lose hope. And he wasn't there. Not yet, and hopefully not ever.

There was a hum of conversation and loud beeping alarms as he stepped into the baggage claim area. With his height, it was easy to scan the crowd and see Sarah's blonde hair. As he started walking towards her, moving as quickly as he could, she turned and caught sight of him. A smile flashed across her face, and then he was in front of her. Without any thought, he wrapped his arms around her.

Sarah was warm and soft and she showed no hesitation in hugging him back. It was like having a drink of the coldest water when you were incredibly thirsty.

He pulled back and gazed down at her. Wearing a skirt and jacket, high-enough heels to be nearly at his eye-level, she looked beautiful and professional: the perfect spy. But she also looked a little sad and tired.

"Hi, Sarah," he said softly, reaching out to brush some of her hair back from her face. He smiled at her, unable to stop himself. Even with the problems they had been facing, being close to Sarah made things seem less daunting.

She smiled back at him, her shoulders visibly relaxing. "Hi, Chuck. How was your flight?"

"Not bad. I'm glad to be back home. Because California is still home for me," he said, taking Sarah's hand.

"Well, let's get you out of here," Sarah said, holding his hand firmly.

"Sounds great-I just need to get my bag," he said, gesturing towards the baggage carousels.

Sarah nodded and walked with him. He glanced at her as they walked, reevaluating his first impression. Maybe he just wanted her to seem sad without him, which was pretty arrogant of him. Sarah was an intelligent, strong woman. She didn't need him or anyone else to be whole.

He squeezed her hand. "How are you doing?"

"I'm okay," Sarah said, looking up at him. "Casey and I have been working a lot, trying to follow some leads."

"I'm looking forward to being a part of that," he said, dropping her hand to grab his suitcase.

"That can start tomorrow, when we're all together," Sarah said. "But for now, you can see your apartment. Get settled."

"Yeah," he said, following her as she walked towards the exit. He assumed she was leading him to her car. "I guess I'll have to get a car now that I'm here. Morgan will be excited about that."

She smiled at him a little. "Yeah?"

Chuck nodded. "He'll have a chauffeur to drive him places."

Sarah chuckled as she unlocked the trunk of a black Porsche. Chuck let out a soft whistle. "Clearly, you're at a higher pay grade than me."

"It's more I've been saving my pay for five years and I got a good deal on this." She gave him a small smirk.

"A good deal?" he asked as he tossed his suitcase into the trunk and closed the lid.

"It was seized from a drug dealer," Sarah said, walking to the driver's side. "The DEA agent who acquired it tipped me off that it was coming up for auction."

Chuck laughed as he slid into the passenger seat. It had been so long since they had joked around like this, laughed like this. It was reassuring that they could slip back into the same behavior after their time apart, despite their challenges.

As Sarah pulled out of the parking lot and headed towards Glendale, Chuck dug his phone out and turned it on. After a few moments, he saw that he had a text message from Morgan. Rather than just text him back, he quickly hit the button to dial Morgan's number.

"Yo!"

He grinned. "Hey, Morgan."

"Chuck, buddy! Are you back?"

"Yeah, I'm back-Sarah and I are driving over to my place," Chuck said, looking over at Sarah.

"That's awesome! You wanna do something tonight? Grab some dinner?"

"Oh, Morgan, I don't know . . ." he said, looking at Sarah again. "I wanted to spend some time with Sarah."

"She can come along! After all, I think she's great, and the three of us didn't spend much time together when you guys visited this summer."

Chuck knew that Morgan wouldn't be easy to turn down. "Gimme a minute, buddy." He lowered the phone, covering the mouthpiece. "You up for dinner with Morgan tonight?"

Sarah glanced over at him as she navigated through some traffic. "Yeah, okay."

"You're sure?"

"Yeah, I'm sure," Sarah said. "We could go get some Armenian." She gave him a small smile.

He grinned at her. "We could," he said, lifting the phone back up. "Morgan, how do you feel about Armenian?"

"That's right, you're living in Glendale now. I could go for some stuffed cabbage leaves and byoreks." Chuck could practically hear Morgan bouncing with excitement. "You wanna go to that place that's off Brand Boulevard?"

"Sounds good. We'll meet you there around seven," Chuck said before hanging up the phone. "You're really sure?" he asked Sarah.

"Chuck," she said, her voice sounding irritated. "I said I would, so I will."

He swallowed. "Of-of course." He shoved his phone into his pocket and looked out through the windshield.

Sarah sighed. "Chuck . . ."

"No, you're right. I shouldn't second-guess you," he said quickly, cutting off whatever she was going to say. "Is this it?" he asked, pointing towards the mixed-use complex that they were waiting to enter.

She nodded and an uncomfortable silence fell between them, one that didn't end until Sarah left him at the door to his apartment. Chuck stepped inside and let his head bang back against the door, wondering how he could let himself think that everything was okay.

XXX

When they met a few hours later to walk over to the restaurant, the first thing Sarah did was apologize for snapping at him. Chuck appreciated that she had said she was sorry, but it didn't change his feeling that just because things seemed good didn't mean that they were.

Dinner went well thanks to Morgan's presence. He made a point of including Sarah, for which Chuck was grateful. The conversation kept flowing through dinner, which spanned appetizers, soup, entrees and dessert. By the time the last plates had been cleared away, he at least had a full stomach.

"So what did you think of Armenian food, Sarah?" Chuck asked, hearing some hesitation in his voice.

"I liked it," Sarah said. "We'll have to do this again." She put aside her napkin and stood up. "I'm going to head home, let you guys catch up."

"Hey, you don't have to go, Sarah!" Morgan protested, taking the words out of Chuck's mouth. "C'mon, stay."

She smiled but shook her head. "I'll see you later, Chuck. It was good seeing you, Morgan." And with that, Sarah headed out of the restaurant.

Morgan sat back, watching Sarah go with a wrinkled forehead. Then he turned to Chuck. "What's wrong?"

Chuck sipped the last of his water. "What do you think is wrong?"

His best friend rolled his eyes. "Where to start? You barely talked to each other, you weren't holding hands or kissing . . . something's wrong."

"It's . . . it's that obvious?" Chuck asked, feeling like he already knew the answer.

"Yeaaah," Morgan said, drawing out the word.

Looking at his best friend, Chuck wished that he could tell him the whole story. Explain all the problems he was facing-with Sarah, with Ellie, with his top-secret job. But he couldn't come clean. Yet getting some help from Morgan, an outside observer, could definitely help.

"Ever since our vacation . . . things haven't been the same," he said slowly.

"Really?" Morgan asked in surprise. "You guys seemed so good."

Chuck sighed. "I know. I thought we were. But it's like once we got back home, we started thinking and realizing that . . . I don't know. I mean, I was ready to start talking about-" He paused and looked at Morgan, then took a deep breath. "I was starting to think that Sarah was the one."

"The one?" Morgan asked in wonder. "Like . . . like you were thinking about the m-word?"

He nodded slowly. "Yeah. Marriage."

"Whoa."

"Yeah," Chuck said. "But now . . . I'm not. Not until we get through this rough patch."

"Well, yeah, but that doesn't mean you should throw in the towel!" Morgan said. "And I've got just the thing for you!"

Chuck watched in confusion as Morgan picked up his messenger bag and dug through it. His confusion wasn't cleared up when, with a "ta-da," Morgan handed him a book.

He stared down at the book, which featured the gauzy outline of a couple facing each other and holding hands. Bright pink letters spelled out "TO DO BEFORE I DO."

It took him a moment to respond. "What-what is this?"

"This," Morgan said, leaning towards him with a big smile, "is an award-winning book on preparing for marriage. Big Mike ordered 'em by accident so we've been trying to sell them. We're even going to have the author do a signing at the store."

"Why would Big Mike order this book for the Buy More?" Chuck asked, still dealing with his shock.

"Dunno," Morgan said, shrugging. "Rumor has it he's having problems with Mrs. Big Mike."

Chuck wrinkled his nose. "Okay. But why did you get a copy?"

"Big Mike gave 'em to all of us. But since I don't have a girlfriend, and you do, it makes more sense to give this to you."

"I guess so," Chuck said, staring at the book cover. "Has this really worked for anyone?"

"There's a whole bunch of people saying on the back of the book how this guy, the author, helped them have happy marriages."

"Hmmm," Chuck said, not totally sold. But it was kind of Morgan to give him the book, and it wouldn't hurt to look at it. So he looked at his best friend and smiled. "Thanks, buddy."

"Anything to help you, Chuck. You and Sarah." Morgan grinned, then checked his watch. "Ooh, I better get home, or my mom will start worrying. And I should have enough time to catch the last bus."

Chuck nodded and pulled out his wallet. "I've got this. Consider it part of your fee, Dr. Grimes."

Morgan laughed as he stood up, slinging his messenger bag around his shoulders. "Anytime, Chuck."

Standing up as well, Chuck followed Morgan out of the restaurant, walking with him to the bus stop. After he saw Morgan onto his bus, he walked slowly back towards his apartment, carrying the book, losing himself in thought.

The book might be helpful. And Chuck had a feeling he'd be needing it soon, since tomorrow he planned to tell Sarah and Casey about the Orion contacts, the computer, everything. He didn't think this was going to turn out well.

XXX

Bright and early the next morning, Chuck carried three cups of coffee and a bakery box into their office space. Looking around, he found the conference room and set down his bounty before taking a seat. He sipped some coffee as he tried to calm his nerves. Today wasn't just about telling Sarah and Casey about the Orion contact; he'd also be reporting this to their superiors.

It was hard to guess how these conversations might go. He was trying to prepare for the worst but hope for the best. It all came down to convincing Sarah and Casey that he had valid reasons for not telling them about Orion and hoping that they'd support him when he came clean with their bosses. Chuck knew it would be a lot to ask of the team and he wasn't sure if he could convince them. But this was the situation he had created for himself and it was time to face it.

Sarah walked into the room, dressed in a pair of black slacks and a simple pink blouse-her normal look for a day in the office instead of the field. She tilted her head to the side when she saw him and breakfast. "What's going on, Chuck?"

He took a quick breath, hoping he didn't look as nervous as he felt. "Good morning. I have something to talk about with you and Casey. And I thought coffee would be good. Since it's the morning and everything, you know. I also have a bearclaw for Casey, and I would have bought you fruit, but instead I got you a chocolate croissant. I hope that's okay."

"Okay," Sarah said slowly, looking at him curiously. But she sat down and picked up the cup that Chuck indicated was hers, as well as taking her croissant and setting it in front of her, all without saying another word.

Thankfully, before the silence got too tense, Casey ambled in slowly. His eyes swept over the room before he nodded to both of them. "Walker. Bartowski. See you got here okay."

"Hi, Casey. There's coffee, and a bearclaw for you," Chuck said, gesturing towards the remaining cup of coffee.

"Huh," Casey grunted. But like Sarah, he sat down and took a long swallow and a big bite of the bearclaw. "So what's going on?"

Instinctively, Chuck felt the urge to babble that there wasn't anything going on. But that wasn't true and he wasn't going to add a lie to his omissions. So instead, he took a small sip of coffee and then squared his shoulders.

"Last week, I was contacted by someone who claimed to be Orion."

Casey choked slightly on his bearclaw while Sarah's eyes widened. "What?" she asked, leaning forward in her chair.

"It was early in the morning. My computer got taken over by someone who put a message on the screen. 'Looking for me?'" Chuck paused before continuing. "Whoever hacked into my computer, they claimed to be Orion and said they'd contact me again. And that happened yesterday before I flew here from Rome."

"Wait a minute, nerd," Casey said, pointing a finger at him. "You're sayin' that you've been sitting on this for over a week and you're just now tellin' us?" He glared at Chuck.

"I can explain," Chuck said quickly.

Casey leaned back in his chair, folding his arms across his chest and shooting Chuck a "I'm waiting" look.

Chuck glanced at Sarah, who after her initial surprise had schooled her face into a blank mask. But her body was tensed and attentive.

"Whoever it was, he could hear me and probably see me," Chuck said. "He told me not to tell anyone and I thought that I should go along with that. It could have been a trap by Fulcrum, or just a hacker who's good enough to get through the security on my computer. By keeping quiet, I was trying to make sure we could find out who we were dealing with."

The NSA agent looked a bit skeptical, but spoke grudgingly. "Makes sense."

"And now you're convinced it's Orion who contacted you?" Sarah asked quietly.

Something in her voice made Chuck look away from Casey to take in Sarah. Her hands were folded on the table, her face still impassive. A sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach made him realize that there must be something going on with Sarah, something that she was trying not to reveal.

As much as he wanted to reassure her, to tell her that it had been for purely professional reasons that he had held back on telling her about Orion, this wasn't the time or place. So he had to be as professional as she was.

"I do think it's Orion, because of what happened yesterday at the second contact," Chuck said, trying to focus on the facts instead of his emotions. It wasn't an easy thing for him to do, but he had to get through this so he could get some time alone with Sarah.

"Orion said he was sending me a computer to allow us to communicate. I got it before I flew here." With that, Chuck opened his messenger bag and pulled out the computer.

"So that's why you're telling us now?" Sarah's voice, if it was possible, had gotten even icier. "Because of this computer?"

Chuck took a deep breath. "It didn't seem wise to me to stay silent any longer. Not when I had proof."

"Risky, going alone," Casey said gruffly.

"I know," Chuck said. "But I had to take that chance." He paused, looking at both of them, and took a deep breath before he dove into his explanation. "I didn't like staying quiet, but I needed time to know what to do. I still don't know. That's why I'm talking to you both." He took a deep breath. "And I'd like your support when I tell Graham and Beckman about these contacts."

"Gettin' ahead of yourself there, Bartowski," Casey said.

"What?" Chuck asked, feeling confused.

Casey rolled his eyes. "Little secret: don't ever fess up to the boss without givin' 'em something they want. Once you check out this computer, then we'll call it in." The NSA agent looked at him. "It doesn't change the fact that you didn't tell us, but you had reasons."

Chuck took a deep breath. "It's a mistake I won't make again." He looked at Casey, then at Sarah. "We're a team and I shouldn't have held back."

"Stop beatin' yourself up," Casey said, draining the last of his coffee and standing up. "We've got work to do." He moved out of the conference room, leaving Chuck and Sarah alone together.

Throughout this conversation, Chuck had been struggling with his nerves. Now that he was alone with Sarah, those nerves were at DefCon Five.

He moved his chair closer to hers. "Sarah . . ."

"Casey's right, we have work to do-" She started to rise from her chair, but Chuck reached out and took her hand quickly.

"Sarah, please let me explain." He gazed up at her, pleading with her to listen. Her hand was stiff as a mannequin's and her face was turned away from his. But she was standing still, not trying to pull away from him, so Chuck pressed on.

"It wasn't something I liked keeping from you, but it seemed like the right thing to do, but maybe it wasn't and I should have talked to you. But I was trying to think like a spy, trying to do what you'd do in that situation . . ."

Her head turned and she looked at him, her face still impassive. But Chuck knew her too well to miss the emotions that were churning in her blue eyes. She looked worried, hurt, even perhaps scared. And that shouldn't be possible-there shouldn't be anything that scared Sarah Walker.

She took a deep breath. "I understand, Chuck. But that doesn't mean I like it." She pulled her hand away from his. "I can't talk about this now."

"When? Later-maybe tonight? We can have dinner and talk, and you can yell at me all you want and then maybe we can put this behind us and move on?" Chuck had come to his feet, desperate to prevent her from walking away from this, determined that they'd talk this out.

"Maybe later," she said, taking a step back. "We need to work. You need to examine the computer and I have a report to write."

Chuck swallowed. If Sarah didn't want to talk about this right now, what could he do except follow her wishes? He nodded, and Sarah turned and walked away, her shoulders held rigid.

With a sigh, he dropped his head to rest against the conference table. It was bad enough that their relationship wasn't working at the moment. Now their partnership had been damaged by his actions. And while he knew he had good reasons for what he had done, Sarah had still been hurt.

He wished he could get inside her head. Find the right words to say to make her feel better. Figure out how to fix things between them. But for now, that wasn't an option. So he sat up and pulled Orion's computer over to boot it up. At least this was something he could do.

End, Chapter 7


	8. Chapter 8

As Sarah stared at her computer screen, reading the same words over and over again, she wondered if one person could screw up more than she had in the past few weeks. Even for someone with limited relationship skills like herself, it shouldn't be possible to destroy something that seemed so strong and almost indestructible, but that must be her hidden talent. Because how else could she have ruined not only her relationship with Chuck, but her working partnership with him, too?

The bombshell that he had possibly been contacted by Orion, and he had kept that information secret for two weeks, made her feel numb. She should be thinking like a spy, accepting Chuck's reasons for withholding this information and figuring out what their team would do next.

But for the first time in many years, Sarah Walker wasn't being logical or rational. Although she knew she was overreacting and on the verge of what felt like hysteria, she couldn't stop feeling like she was losing Chuck.

Chuck was becoming everything she hadn't wanted him to become. Whether it was trying to tough out an injury or keeping secrets from his team, he was turning into a real spy. Putting up walls, closing himself off. But that wasn't Chuck-that shouldn't be who Chuck was. She had thought the Intersect might change him, make him into the perfect cold, distant spy. But it hadn't.

It was all her fault.

The monitor in front of her became blurry and Sarah got up quickly. Casey was sitting on the other side of the small office, typing away with two fingers at some report, and she wouldn't break down in front of him. At least Chuck was still in the conference room, working on "Orion's" computer there because he claimed he needed extra space to work. He wouldn't see her running to the bathroom so she could be alone.

Closing and locking the door behind her, Sarah looked around the small room, trying to calm herself down. She tried to pace, but it only took her two steps before she was at the wall. With a sigh, Sarah slid down the wall and sat on the tile floor, pulling her knees in against her chest.

Leaning her head back against the wall, she tried to figure out just how everything had gone so wrong. Up until the last two months, things between her and Chuck had been smooth as silk: no fights, no misunderstandings. The only bumps in the road had been Chuck's desire for more and her insistence that they had to keep their relationship quiet. But that hadn't interfered with their enjoyment of each other, and it hadn't affected their work.

But ever since their vacation, getting to see what being a "normal" couple was like . . . that seemed to be when everything changed. Chuck had always made it clear that he wanted more from her, that he was willing to take the risk in order to have a public relationship. And during that week off, she had started to understand why he wanted that. But getting that glimpse of a different life sabotaged the easy, simple relationship they used to have. Made everything complicated, too complicated for her to figure out.

With Chuck coming to LA, she had worried a little about how they would work together, given the problems between them. But she thought that she could handle it until she could talk to Chuck, until they could work things out. She would stay professional and focus on the job, pushing aside her emotions until they could talk. But once she had seen such clear evidence of how far Chuck had come as a spy, focusing on work didn't seem possible.

Her practical side was trying to reassert itself, pointing out all the reasons why she was being ridiculous. He'd had a good, solid spy-related reason to not tell her about Orion. Chuck had also kept this from Casey; it wasn't just about Chuck not telling Sarah-his-girlfriend something. And most damning of all, it wasn't like she had come clean with him about things she knew, namely the link between Perseus and Orion.

All those details were logical rebuttals for her feelings, but cold hard facts didn't change the emotions she felt: hurt, loss, regret. And most of all, fear. Sarah Walker was scared, because it seemed like everything she thought she knew had been turned on its head.

She had thought that with Chuck, she could have it all. A job that she loved, that let her do good, that made her feel safe. A boyfriend who made her smile, made her happy and kept her safe, too. It wasn't about Chuck being a spy; she knew that Chuck could be a great agent without having to become cold and hard and untrusting. He didn't have to be paranoid, always looking for veiled meanings and hidden truths. But now . . . it was like he was starting to put up walls. Walls between how he really was and how he acted. Walls between her and him.

Sarah took a deep breath and rubbed her hands over her face. She was freaking out, as Chuck would put it. This wasn't the time or the place to be dealing with these problems. She needed to get her head in the game and focus on Fulcrum and Orion. She had found a lead yesterday, before she left to pick up Chuck at the airport, and that was what she should be working on.

She would get back to work. But she knew she couldn't go on like this anymore. That they couldn't go on like this anymore. Chuck was just as hesitant as she was to face their problems, which wasn't something she expected to happen. It just made her realize that if they didn't work on this, they would lose each other. So she had to be the one to reach out to Chuck.

Opening her heart wasn't something she did. Not even with Chuck. But maybe it was time to take that risk, if she wanted to keep him . . .

She squared her shoulders and stood up, taking a moment to splash some water on her face and straighten her clothes. She had a job to do, one that needed to get done. She would get back to figuring out what Meadow Branch was and why it was so important to Fulcrum. She had to stop feeling like a girlfriend and act like a spy. That meant accepting Chuck's reasons for keeping quiet about Orion and not acting hurt. But once she left work today, she would begin the most important research of her life: how to talk to her boyfriend.

XXX

After four hours of research, Sarah pushed her chair back from her desk with a sigh. She had to admit that she'd hit a brick wall in trying to determine what Meadow Branch was and why it was important to Fulcrum. There were so many possibilities for what Meadow Branch could be, although her instincts said that there was something a bit strange about the small planned community outside Los Angeles named that.

Normally, she'd have asked Chuck if there was anything in the Intersect long before now. But he had been closed up in the conference room for hours, not coming out for anything. She hadn't wanted to disturb him . . . and she also needed some time to get balanced. To find a way to work with him.

"Briefing with Beckman and Graham in a half hour," Casey said, pausing by her desk with a cup of coffee. "One of us should find out if Bartowski has anything to report."

Sarah nodded. "Yeah-I'll go."

Casey gave her a long look, but nodded in return. "Find anything about Meadow Branch?"

"Not much more than we already knew," Sarah said, standing up and rolling her shoulders. "I'll check with Chuck, if there's anything in the Intersect."

The NSA agent grunted in response and went back to his desk. Sarah almost smiled; no matter what was going on, you could count on Casey to be predictable. With how much everything seemed to be changing, she appreciated that. And she should stop stalling.

Taking a deep breath, Sarah walked over to the conference room. She knocked lightly on the door, then opened it. "Chuck?" Her voice sounded normal, not like she'd nearly burst into tears a few hours before.

The conference room was no longer corporate and sterile. The long table in the middle of the small room was littered with papers, tools, and a few Red Bull cans, not unlike any other desk that Chuck used. At the far end of the table just under the video screens, he was bent over the computer, his fingers flying over the keyboard.

"Chuck?" she repeated.

He jumped, looking up at her. "Sarah! Oh, um, I didn't notice . . ." He stood up quickly. "Is something going on?"

"Not yet," she said quickly. "I came to talk to you. I knocked-I guess you didn't hear me."

"Yeah," he said sheepishly, rubbing a hand over his face. "I was distracted. This computer, it's amazing. Way beyond anything I'd even imagined."

She nodded. "So you think it really did come from Orion?"

Chuck ran a hand through his hair, his curls fluffing up. "This computer could only be created by a genius like Orion, I think. There's some unbelievable security protocols, voice recognition, the works. It's also got tons of files. I've only just gotten started, but it looks like it's the intel that Orion has been collecting on Fulcrum."

Sarah felt her spirits rise. With how little they still knew about Fulcrum's plans, additional information from an outside source could be invaluable. "That's good news."

"Yeah. Of course, we don't know if it'll check out, but it's something." Chuck rolled his shoulders and rubbed his eyes.

She watched him, feeling a flutter of worry. "We can get help with the analysis. When we tell Graham and Beckman about this, they'll get their people all over this."

"I wish I could be involved, but I'll probably be in the doghouse for not immediately telling them about Orion's contact," Chuck said, sounding regretful but resigned.

"You never know," Sarah said. "There's a briefing in thirty minutes, if you want to get cleaned up."

"Not a bad idea," he said, giving her a small, lopsided smile. "I learned my lesson after that time I had been working twenty-four hours straight." He shoved his hands into his pockets, scuffing his foot against the floor. "I usually learn from my mistakes and don't make the same ones twice."

She swallowed. His voice seemed to hold an extra layer of meaning, like he was talking about more than not being prepared for a briefing. She wished that she could just talk. That she could let out all the questions and doubts and worries. But for now, she had to hold those back. So she quickly blurted out, "I came in because there's something else. I found a name that might be a link to Fulcrum, but I keep hitting dead ends. So I thought maybe there's something in the Intersect."

"Yeah, yeah, of course . . ." he said, trying to smooth down his rumpled hair. "What is it?"

"Meadow Branch?"

Her heart sank when Chuck's face stayed the same, without any sign of him having a flash. He shook his head. "Sorry, I've got nothing."

"Back to the drawing board, I guess," she said, trying to smile. "Thanks. Casey and I'll be in for the briefing in a few minutes." She turned and headed for the door, trying to figure out what she was going to do next.

"Any time," he called out after her. Before she stepped out the door, she heard him say, "Hey, what's this?"

Sarah turned around. "What's what?"

Chuck had sat down in front of the computer, leaning in close to it. "I noticed that a file opened up. A file that opened on its own." He looked up at her, his eyes wide. "On Meadow Branch."

"A file just opened up on its own?" she asked in surprise. She walked around the table to stand behind Chuck, reading over his shoulder.

"Like I said, voice recognition built in," Chuck said, sounding a bit distracted as he read the file. "It looks like . . . Meadow Branch is a planned community about fifteen miles from here. A pretty big Fulcrum cell is located there, it appears, at least from the number of houses in the community that were bought by one of Fulcrum's shell companies."

Sarah nodded as she read along. "It's an easy way to keep a cell's members in close proximity to each other. Can you tell what they're doing?"

Chuck shook his head as he scrolled through the screens of data. "No . . . but I bet it has something to do with the Intersect."

"It makes sense," Sarah agreed. She straightened up. "You get cleaned up, I'll get Casey. We've got a lot to get organized before this briefing."

XXX

The next time Sarah thought the CIA was moving too slowly, she'd remember this. She looked at Chuck, who was driving them to Meadow Branch in a very suburban station wagon as the sun set. Then she looked down at the wedding and engagement rings on her left hand.

In thirty-six hours, the CIA and NSA had set up their operation in Meadow Branch. They had acquired a house within the development for Mr. and Mrs. Charles Carmichael, newlyweds who had moved to the West Coast unexpectedly due to Charles Carmichael's job. So in just over a day, Sarah had acquired a husband, a house, and probably even a dog-the CIA was big on the little touches like that.

Sarah felt herself gnawing on her lower lip and forced herself to stop. Their report to Graham and Beckman about Orion and Meadow Branch had gone about as well as she had expected. Both superiors had been annoyed that Chuck hadn't immediately revealed his contact with Orion and they had promptly sent a team to retrieve Orion's laptop. While the techs were working on analyzing the information on the computer, Chuck and Sarah would be sent undercover into Meadow Branch to learn more about Fulcrum's plans.

The rings kept catching her eye. The large diamond on the engagement ring sparkled in the waning sunlight, making her even more conscious of them. She very nearly turned the diamond inwards, but she knew she had to get used to them so she wouldn't blow her cover. This wasn't the first time she had to pretend to be married. But then, all those other times, she hadn't had feelings for the agent who was playing the part of her husband.

After the briefing, all three of them had been put to work, preparing for the mission. She'd barely had enough time for sleep the last two nights, let alone work on her relationship with Chuck. It wasn't a matter of her determination fading. She knew that something had to happen and soon. Perhaps acting like a happy couple would give them the opening they needed.

"Well, here we are," Chuck said, pulling into a driveway in front of a tan stucco house, just like every other house on the street. The only difference was the name "Carmichael" on the white mailbox.

"Okay," Sarah said, looking at him. "Ready?"

He looked at her for a long moment, then gave her a weak smile. "Ready if you are, Mrs. Carmichael."

She did her best to smile back, then patted his hand. "It'll be okay, Chuck."

"I've never worked undercover before," he said, looking a bit nervous. "Not for this long, I mean. I don't want to screw up."

"You won't," she said softly. Giving in to her instinct, she took his hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. "I'll be right with you."

At the touch of her hand, his eyes fluttered shut and he took a deep breath. Sarah felt her own heart skip a beat. At that moment, all she wanted to do was stay in this car, holding his hand. But their new neighbors/Fulcrum agents were probably already watching them.

"Come on, Mr. Carmichael," she said, giving his hand a tug. "Showtime."

He opened his eyes and nodded, looking more relaxed and at-ease. "Right. Yeah, let's go."

Stepping into the house, Sarah felt the strangeness of the situation once again. Facing them were several photos, picturing Chuck and herself in a range of happy yet fake moments. A soft bark confirmed her earlier suspicion about the Carmichaels being dog people.

Chuck leaned in and took a close look at the photos. "Wow. The CIA is really bad at Photoshop."

She let out a soft laugh. "I guess so? They look okay to me." As her words sank in, it didn't seem so funny to her. She ran her eyes over the photos, seeing dates with Chuck she'd never had and a wedding that she couldn't imagine happening.

His eyes were on her now, but Sarah did her best to ignore the feelings that were stirring inside her. "Everything we need should probably be in the bedrooms upstairs. I'm pretty tired-I'm going to go to bed."

"Okay," he said, a bit meekly. "Good night, Sarah."

"Good night, Chuck," she said, giving him a quick glance before she headed for the stairs, climbing them quickly.

The three bedrooms and two bathrooms on the second floor were all furnished with bland decor. She found the room that had been prepared for her and closed the door before sinking down on the bed.

She felt like such a coward. One handhold and some butterflies in her stomach and she ran. Here she was, hiding in this sterile bedroom in a house that wasn't hers, in a life that she'd never live. So why did it suddenly seem so appealing? Not this house, of course. But the thought of having a life with Chuck . . .

Sarah frowned when she realized she was staring at the rings. This was crazy. Given the state of her relationship with Chuck, daydreaming about having something more was just foolish. And she'd never wanted anything like this: marriage, a house, the two point five children.

And as a spy, she'd never get those things.

Standing up, she went to the closets, exploring what the CIA had left for her to wear. None of it was her style, but she supposed the range of cute little dresses, cardigans and kitten heels were perfect for a suburban wife.

Inside the dresser, she found some nightgowns and quickly grabbed the least-revealing one, a pale pink one with lace trim. At least it was the prettiest one, too.

Once she had changed into the nightgown, she took a few deep breaths. She needed to apologize to Chuck for blowing him off. He was nervous about this, and he would need her help. And she had promised that she would be there for him.

It was time for her to stop ignoring her feelings.

She checked the other bedrooms and found no sign of Chuck, so she quietly walked downstairs, exploring the house a little as she looked for him.

Not finding him anywhere, she was ready to start worrying when she caught a glimpse of him through one of the windows. Crossing to the French doors that opened onto the back patio, she saw him sitting on one of the wicker couches that surrounded the small, kidney-shaped pool.

Sarah closed her eyes, collecting herself. She wanted to get this right. She wanted to make things better between Chuck and herself, and that wouldn't happen until she let him in. They were on a mission, but she couldn't keep using work as an excuse.

Taking a moment to detour through the kitchen and get two bottles of root beer from the fridge, she walked slowly outside, closing the French doors behind her.

Chuck had turned at the sound of the doors opening and his eyes widened when he saw her. "Sarah."

Suddenly, this nightgown felt much too revealing. But she made herself smile at him. "Hi."

"What-is there something-" He started to scramble up, but she held up a hand, trying to stop him.

"No, stay where you are," she said, trying not to sound like she was ordering him. "I . . . I saw you out here and I thought I'd join you."

"You did?" he asked, sounding dumbstruck.

He was so surprised. Just how far apart had they drifted in the last few weeks?

"Root beer?" Her voice was a bit shaky, so she clutched the bottles as she offered one to him.

Chuck blinked. "Um, yeah, sure." He reached out and took the bottle, carefully keeping his fingers away from hers.

She took a sip, walking over to the edge of the pool. The sun had fully set by now, leaving them in the soft darkness of early evening. It might have been romantic, if it hadn't been for the stark lights from their neighbors' yards, creating harsh shadows around the pool.

"So . . . the suburbs," Chuck said softly, almost like he was talking to himself.

Sarah turned to face him. "You lived someplace like this growing up, didn't you?"

He shrugged. "Not this fancy. It was older, more . . . more lived-in, I guess."

When they had visited California before, Chuck had made mention of seeing his old haunts. But for some reason, he hadn't wanted to go see his old house. He kept making excuses until finally they were out of time.

"What was it like?" When he looked at her, his expression confused, she explained, "Growing up in one place."

It took him a few moments to reply, giving her time to walk over and sit next to him on the sofa.

"It was good, I guess. I mean, Morgan lived the next street over, so during the summer, we were always together. There was a community pool just a bike ride away. And there was the comic book store I found when I was nine, and that . . . that changed my life." He smiled softly.

She had a sudden glimpse of this younger version of Chuck, with messy hair and big eyes and beat-up shoes. Playing with Morgan, reading books, talking about movies and TV shows. He must have been adorable, she thought. Adorable and charming and utterly lovable.

"That was the good stuff."

His voice was bleak, and she looked at him. His face was half in shadow and his smile was gone, replaced with an expression that was much sadder. But there was another emotion on his face, one she couldn't exactly place.

"The good stuff?" she echoed.

He glanced over at her, looking a bit self-conscious. "Yeah. Because . . . well, it was all I knew, so I didn't know how weird my family was. I mean, Morgan's dad split when Morgan was little, before we had even met, and other kids I knew only had one parent. But . . . but although I had a mom and dad, neither of them were really . . . there."

From what Chuck had said about his father, and the kind of relationship she'd observed he had with Ellie, his words shouldn't have been a surprise. But they were. How could anyone not want a son like Chuck?

"Dad was always a little bit lost in his own world," Chuck said softly, rubbing his thumb against his soda bottle. "It got worse after Mom left."

Sarah gazed at him, fitting the pieces together. She'd had the bare facts: his mother leaving when he was nine, his father's neglect and eventual disappearance. But she hadn't figured out how it had impacted Chuck. He was always so positive, so open. Yet he carried around scars, just like she did.

And somehow, knowing that his family hadn't been picture book perfect suddenly made it easier to tell him.

"It was just me and my dad when I was growing up," she said, looking at him.

Chuck turned his head, meeting her eyes. She took a sip of root beer before continuing. "We . . . we traveled a lot. Dad wasn't very big on structure or staying in one place. I was fifteen when he finally let us stop moving and settle down in San Diego."

"Really?"

She nodded. "That's where I went to high school. I got recruited by the CIA just before graduation."

"Huh," Chuck said. "You know, every summer since I was sixteen, I went to San Diego for Comic-Con." He smiled at her softly. "We might have crossed paths without even realizing it."

"Maybe," she said, returning his smile.

"It's a small world after all. Just like the ride at Disneyland," he said, grinning at her.

She ducked her head, taking another sip from her bottle as she tried to not beam at him. She knew she missed him. Missed spending time together, talking and smiling. But she had no idea just how much she missed it. And she'd somehow forgotten just how good it felt.

Her father always used to say to stop when you were still on top. And that seemed like a good piece of advice for tonight. But she had just one more thing to say.

"Chuck?"

"Yeah, Sarah?" he asked, reaching out to take her hand.

It was too much, the darkness and their pasts and the touch of his hand. If he kept touching her, she'd ignore their problems and throw herself at him. So after a quick squeeze she pulled her hand away.

"I know things between us, they're a bit . . . right now, we're not-" She stumbled over her words, not sure of what she was trying to say. She shook her head in frustration. "There's a lot more we need to do to get back on the same page, and I want to do that, it's just-there's work, and talking is really hard for me, so I just need some time, okay?"

She looked away, feeling flustered. The easy comfort had evaporated and she felt tense and jittery.

Chuck's voice was soft when he spoke. "You can have whatever you need, Sarah." He stood up. "We should probably get to bed. Big day of undercover work tomorrow."

Sarah nodded, feeling uneasy. "Yeah." She looked up at him. "Good night, Chuck."

He gave her a tight smile. "Good night, Sarah."

As he walked into the house, Sarah looked out over the yard. She took a deep breath. Even if you took two steps forward and one step back, you were still making progress. She had to remember that. It had taken weeks for her relationship with Chuck to reach this point; it would take a while to fix things. At least she had taken the first step.

But she wished she had just said good night instead of asking him for more time.

XXX

"Chuck? Chuck, talk to me!"

All she got was static. Sarah switched channels. "Casey, do you have eyes on Chuck?"

"Nope. Not since he went into the house," was Casey's blunt reply.

"I've lost comms with him," Sarah said, craning her neck to look through the window at the house down the street. The house that Chuck was inside, pretending to have an affair with Sylvia Arculin in order to figure out just what Fulcrum was doing in Meadow Branch.

"He'll be fine, Walker. Stop freakin' out."

Sarah dropped her wrist and blew out a breath. She knew Casey was right, but she hated being in the dark like this.

Chuck had gotten into the Arculin house without any problems, thanks to Sylvia's interest in him. Finding a computer that was hooked up to the high-capacity Internet lines, Chuck had radioed that he was attempting to access the computer. But a moment after his last contact, the comms had gone dead.

"Casey, this is taking too long. I'm going in," Sarah said, making a split-second decision. She whispered loudly into her watch. "Chuck, I'm coming in."

She shoved her gun into the back of her skirt. Looking around, she grabbed a random casserole dish and hurried over to the Arculin house. She knocked loudly on the front door, then hit the doorbell. Her hand was poised to knock again when the door was opened by Cliff Arculin.

She gave him a big, toothy smile. "Oh, hi, Cliff! An early day for you, huh? Is Sylvia home? Everyone was so kind to bring over casseroles at our little party the other day, and I have this one dish that isn't marked, so I thought it might be yours."

"No, it's not," Cliff said shortly, trying to close the door in her face.

"You barely looked at it! I bet Sylvia will be very annoyed if she doesn't get her dish back," she simpered. She took a step over the threshold, then jumped when the pressure of her gun vanished. Whirling around, she saw one of the neighbors-Brian? Bruce?-holding her gun on her.

Sylvia's voice drew her attention. She held another gun on Sarah, her enormous husband at her side. "It's time to fully welcome you to the neighborhood. You and your 'husband'," she said, putting extra emphasis on the word "husband".

Sarah swallowed. She hoped that Casey could hear what was going on over the comms. Outnumbered and unsure of her backup, she chose to go along with the Fulcrum agents instead of fighting. If they had Chuck, if something had gone wrong, she wanted to be with him.

Her eyes tried to take in as much as she could as the Fulcrum agents lead her into the basement and through a concrete-lined tunnel to a large lab with an observation room. Her heart sped up when she saw Chuck strapped to a chair in the middle of the lab, his eyes held open.

"Chuck!"

"There's no need for that fake concern," Sylvia snapped. "We know you're both CIA agents."

"And since your partner survived our first round of testing, we're going to upload our Intersect into him." The man with her gun-Brad, that was his name-smiled. The smirk was at odds with his baby face. "We're so eager to see what happens!"

Sarah struggled, even though it seemed hopeless. She tried to catch Chuck's eye, to see if he was all right, but he stayed still and silent in his chair. What was going to happen to him? Did Fulcrum know that Chuck already had an Intersect in his head? Would Fulcrum's Intersect damage his mind, turn him into a vegetable? She couldn't let this happen to him.

Two beefy agents shoved her into a chair and restrained her, before Sylvia slid a pair of large sunglasses over her eyes with more force than necessary.

She was glad for the shades. She knew it was to prevent her from being uploaded with the Intersect. But they also hid her eyes, so that no one could see the despair and fear and worry inside them.

At that moment, she regretted so much. Being so scared of Chuck changing his mind about them, worrying about her job more than herself. Because could being a spy hug her when she'd had a bad day, or make her laugh, or inspire her find out who she really was?

Biting her lower lip, Sarah couldn't look away from Chuck. If they got through this, she wouldn't forget what happened here. She wouldn't let Chuck go.

XXX

The last place she wanted to be was in this house in the suburbs, watching as the CIA cleaners removed all the pieces of the fake life they had created for her and Chuck. She wanted to be with Chuck, watching as he was checked out, making sure he was all right after being uploaded with Fulcrum's Intersect.

True, Chuck had proven that his personality hadn't changed. He had protected her and helped Casey take out the Fulcrum members by exposing them to the Intersect upload meant for her. He was still Chuck.

But that didn't mean he was safe. They had no way of knowing just what kind of intel was in Fulcrum's Intersect, let alone what would happen when he flashed. Would he get intel that had been compiled by Fulcrum? Was the CIA data gone? What would happen to Chuck if the CIA decided to take him out of the field? And what would happen to them?

"Agent Walker?"

Sarah shook her head quickly as she turned to face the head of the CIA team. "Yes?"

He pointed at her hand. "I'll need those back."

The rings. She nodded and pulled them off, each ring catching a little on her knuckle. "Yes, of course. Are we all done here?"

The agent took the rings back, putting them in a small plastic bag. "As soon as I get Agent Bartowski's ring, we are."

"I'm not sure when he'll be done getting checked out," Sarah said, only for Chuck to interrupt her.

"I'm here-what do you need?"

She whirled around. "Chuck, are you okay?" She took a step toward him, running her eyes over him and looking for any signs that he was suffering. He looked a bit tired, his forehead wrinkled. He probably had a headache from the testing.

"I'm fine," he said quietly, looking at her before turning to the head agent.

Sarah watched him as he handed over the ring and the CIA team departed, leaving just the two of them in this large, cookie-cutter house.

Taking a breath, she reached out and lightly rested her hand on his arm. "You're really okay? It's just us now."

Chuck nodded. "Yeah. I have a headache, because I had to flash a couple of times."

"Is everything working?" It was odd having to pull information out of Chuck; normally he was a chatterbox.

"Well, I can still flash," he said. "They think the Fulcrum data just got added to the existing Intersect-we were able to figure out when I'm getting intel from Fulcrum or from the CIA files."

"That's good . . ." she said slowly. "Can we trust the Fulcrum data?"

He shrugged. "The scientists are doing some double-checking, but yeah, it seems to be okay. They were all really excited about me having more data."

It was all she could do not to roll her eyes. Yet again, the scientists thought Chuck was some experiment instead of a fully-qualified CIA agent and a human being.

She wanted to get mad at them. She wanted Chuck to go over every moment of the testing, so she could know exactly what happened. And most of all, she wanted to hug Chuck.

Sarah took a deep breath. "Okay. Well, you're probably tired-we should get back to LA. I can drive."

"Thanks," he said, rubbing his temples. "I'm gonna need a lot of sleep before I can get back to work tomorrow."

"You're cleared for duty?" she asked as she walked with him out to the station wagon.

Chuck nodded. "Yeah."

Although she wanted to keep talking to him, looking for any signs that something was wrong, it was all too clear he wasn't in the shape for any kind of conversation. So Sarah just got in the car and drove them back to their apartments in Los Angeles, with Chuck asleep in the seat next to her.

XXX

"Ellie . . . yeah, I know. I know it's less than three months to your wedding, but I'm going to find him."

Sarah paused outside Chuck's apartment door. She could hear his voice, talking to Ellie. The silence after he spoke made her realize that he must be talking to his sister on the phone. She lifted her hand to knock on the door, then stopped and kept listening.

"I've got some leads. I'm not ready to give up yet, sis. Just trust me."

She looked down, feeling a stab of shame. With the issues between them, she hadn't really thought about Chuck's search for his father. It was something important to him and she had completely ignored it.

And it wasn't right for her to be standing here, eavesdropping on him like this. If she wanted to know, she should talk to him.

She knocked on his door. He opened the door and nodded to her, gesturing to the phone. She nodded back and stayed by the door as he finished talking to Ellie.

"I've got to go, El-Sarah's here and I'm taking her to work."

Whatever Ellie said made a wistful emotion flicker across his face. He rubbed his foot against the floor. "Yeah, something like that. I love you. We'll see you for dinner next week. Bye."

He hung up the phone and turned to face her. "Sorry about that. Ellie and I have been playing phone tag the last week or so."

"No, it's okay," she said quickly. "I understand."

She watched as he gathered up his things, shoving his phone into his jacket pocket and putting some papers in his messenger bag. He looked a lot less tired than he had last night when she had dropped him off, but he still seemed to be feeling the effects from the Fulcrum upload and the CIA testing.

"Thanks for the ride," she said softly as he stepped out of his apartment, locking the door. When the mission to Meadow Branch had come down, she had ended up leaving her car at their office, thus Chuck driving her to work.

"You don't have to thank me," he said, giving her a small smile.

"But I wanted to," she said.

He chuckled. "Sarah Walker, a paragon of politeness."

She managed to smile back. He seemed distracted, like he was a million miles away and he was only talking to her on autopilot. She followed him out to his Prius and slid into the passenger seat. "How are you feeling today?"

"Better," he said, buckling his seatbelt and starting the car. He pulled out and started driving them towards Burbank.

"Chuck? You know that if you were worried about the Intersect, you could . . . you could talk to me."

He glanced at her. "I know, Sarah." He took a deep breath. "I am worried, but . . . but I don't know what I can do about it. I mean, so far, everything seems okay. I'm flashing like normal, but when it's Fulcrum data the flash is tinged red, so I know to be careful with what I'm getting."

"That's good. I was worried that you wouldn't know the difference and it might cause problems." She winced slightly at how he might take her words. "I mean, since we know that you're not hurting yourself by flashing-"

"I know what you mean, Sarah." He looked over at her again before returning his eyes to the road, turning into the parking lot of the office building. "By the way, Ellie expects to see both of us at dinner next Friday night."

"I haven't seen Ellie in a while. It'll be great to see her and Devon," Sarah said. "And . . . and to spend some time together."

Chuck didn't say anything until he parked the car. "Yeah, that would be good." He looked at her. "Sarah . . ."

"Yes, Chuck?" she said, turning towards him in her seat and giving him her full attention.

He gazed at her for a long moment, then shook his head. "Never mind." He smiled at her, a smile that was a bit closer to the smile he used to give her, the smile that she missed so much. "Maybe we could go out to dinner tonight?"

She felt her heart beat faster. Maybe all those olive branches and openings she'd been offering, small and hesitant as they were, had made him realize that she was trying. That she wasn't giving up on them. She did her best to stay under control, but her voice shook a little. "I'd love to."

His smile widened a bit. "Great. We-we can talk more after work."

"Yeah," she said, smiling back.

For a long moment, neither of them moved. Sarah let herself get lost in looking at Chuck, cataloging the exact color of his eyes, noting how full his lower lip was. She hadn't let herself look at him like this for a long time.

They both jumped when there was a loud knock on the passenger side window and Casey's voice reached them through the glass. "Hey, how about doing some work instead of makin' googly eyes at each other in the parking lot, huh?"

Sarah looked at Chuck and let out a soft, embarrassed laugh. "I guess we're late."

He grinned back at her. "Guess so. Let's go. I've got a lot of paperwork to review before the briefing later."

"Me, too," she said, climbing out of the car. They switched into work conversation as they walked into the office, before going to their separate desks.

As they walked, Sarah's mind returned to the question of Chuck's father. What had Chuck done so far to find him? Had he tried using the CIA databases?

She nibbled on her lower lip and looked over at Chuck. Thanks to Director Graham, she had access to resources that most CIA agents didn't. If she ran Chuck's father through those databases, she might be able to find him.

The little Chuck that she'd imagined in the suburbs came back to her. The little boy who worshipped his father, who didn't understand what was going on around him, but stayed sweet and loving and optimistic. It was just as much for that Chuck that she wanted to find Stephen Bartowski.

Before she could come up with reasons to not do this, Sarah turned to her computer and logged into the CIA's network. She typed in what she knew about Chuck's dad and started the search, requesting the results to be sent to her via email. Then she took a deep breath. Now she was committed.

XXX

"Agents, Major, good work. The Fulcrum cell you eliminated was made up of some of their best people. We've also captured a large chunk of their intelligence, severely crippling Fulcrum."

"Thank you, Director," Sarah said, unable to prevent a small smile.

"Fulcrum's ability to build their own Intersect has been severely compromised. This gives us much-needed breathing room. Each of you will be receiving commendations for this mission," Beckman said, a note of warmth in her voice.

"Just trying to do good works, ma'am," Casey said.

Sarah exchanged glances with Chuck, feeling a rush of pleasure. After so many bad missions, having a mission that was seen as a success was something to be happy about. Chuck being uploaded with the Fulcrum Intersect was a drawback, but so far he seemed to be okay. And it seemed that their bosses were taking this development as a bonus, letting them have more knowledge of Fulcrum's attempted Intersect.

"Agent Bartowski, have you suffered any ill effects from Fulcrum's treatment?"

"No, Director," Chuck said. "So far, I haven't had any flashes with bad intel, and it's easy to distinguish the Fulcrum info from the CIA's."

"Good," Graham said. "That will give us the time to focus on tracking down Orion."

"Agent Walker, Major Casey, the information on Orion's computer has allowed us to pinpoint a few possible locations for Orion's base of operations. One of them is along the California-Mexico border, so you'll be heading there tomorrow to investigate."

Sarah did her best to hold back a sigh at the general's words. She forgot that success meant more work.

"Meanwhile, Agent Bartowski, you'll be monitoring Fulcrum and helping with the analysis of the files on Orion's computer," Director Graham said.

"Yes, sir," Chuck said, sounding a bit disappointed.

"Good work, people. Keep it up." And with that, the briefing was over.

Casey grunted. "Walker, no way am I gonna curl up for hours in your clown car. We'll take the Crown Vic."

"Sure, Casey," Sarah said, running a hand through her hair. "Around nine?"

He nodded and left the conference room, leaving Sarah and Chuck alone. Chuck turned to look at her. "Guess that means dinner is off?"

Sarah looked at Chuck in surprise. "What?"

"Since you're going away . . ." His words trailed off, then he smiled. "Or maybe I'm wrong."

She couldn't help smiling at him softly. "It does happen once in a while."

Chuck laughed. "It's nearly five-you want to go?"

"Yeah, sure," Sarah said. "I just need to wrap up some things before I leave."

"Gotcha," Chuck said. "I'll meet you out at my car."

Sarah nodded. "You got it." She gave him another smile and headed over to her computer. There were a few new emails and she debated whether she should just leave them, but she quickly scanned them. To her shock, her database search for Chuck's father had already yielded results.

She ran her eyes over the email, then hit print. The minute she waited for the document to print felt like a lifetime, but finally the pages spit out. She grabbed them out of the printer and hurried to meet Chuck.

He was waiting for her, smiling when he caught sight of her. "Hey. I thought you had changed your mind. Ready to find something to eat?"

"Chuck, I know this is a lot for me to ask," she said in a rush. "But I need you to come with me."

"What?" Chuck said, looking at her in confusion. "What about dinner?"

"We'll grab something on the road, but I have to take you someplace."

Chuck looked wary. "Sarah, you do realize that half of all horror movies feature that phrase?"

Sarah swallowed. She had to convince him to come with her. Once they were on their way, she could tell him what she had found out about his father, let him have time to prepare. But she couldn't explain how she had found Stephen Bartowski while they were standing in the middle of the parking lot.

She lowered her voice. "Chuck, please. Just trust me." She looked up at him, searching his face. She knew that this might be more than he was willing to give her. Deep down, she knew she was asking for his trust about more than just this situation. But after all the ways she had screwed up, she wanted to get this right.

He took a moment to consider, then nodded slowly. "Okay."

"Okay?" she repeated, feeling a wave of relief.

"Yeah. I . . . I trust you, Sarah."

"Okay," she said, taking a deep breath. "Then let's go." She quickly grabbed his hand and lead him over to her car. She peeled out of the parking lot, heading towards the interstate and going east.

She glanced at him as she drove, trying to figure out the right words to tell Chuck that in two hours, he could be seeing his father.

End, Chapter 8


	9. Chapter 9

Chuck felt like all his nervousness was concentrated in his right foot. He'd switched between tapping his foot nonstop and pressing the sole of his shoe against the floor of Sarah's Porsche throughout the ride, first because he didn't know what was going on and then because he did.

He couldn't believe that Sarah had found his father for him. She'd expressed so many reservations when he had first told her about his plans. He had thought that meant she didn't agree with him, that she thought finding his dad was a bad idea. Yet something must have changed, because Sarah had used high-level databases that most CIA agents didn't even know about, let alone access to, in order to find Stephen Bartowski.

She kept surprising him. He'd been trying to find a way to get his courage up and talk to her about their relationship, because he didn't think she'd make the first move. Yet not only had she reached out to him at the house in the suburbs, initiating a conversation about their pasts, but here she had taken the leap that he hadn't been ready to make.

Relying on his Internet search and not doing the obvious search in the CIA database . . . perhaps it had been a sign that he wasn't really ready to find his dad. That he had feelings about his father's absence that he hadn't fully resolved. But he'd have to come to grips with what he felt very soon.

They had passed through the town of Barstow about fifteen minutes ago, where their grumbling stomachs had made them stop for sandwiches and coffee. Sarah had said that their final destination was about forty minutes east of Barstow, so he knew they were getting close.

"Sarah?"

She looked over at him, her hands kept at ten and two on the wheel.

"What made you do this? Find my dad?"

"I know I should have checked with you first," she said, her voice low. He noticed how she deflected his question and went in another direction. "I mean, this was something you wanted to do for Ellie."

"I was spinning my wheels," Chuck said, turning as much as he could in the cramped confines of the Porsche. "I hadn't really found out anything, but . . . but I wasn't ready to use my CIA connections to find him."

Sarah took a long look at him before turning back to face the road. He could see her gripping the steering wheel even tighter.

"But I'm glad you did, Sarah. Because sometimes, you need a push. Like when you're about to skydive and suddenly you freeze and the instructor just pushes you out of the plane?" he rambled, a corner of his mind wondering why he was still talking.

A small smile quirked Sarah's mouth. "That is exactly how my skydiving instructor was," she said. "Anyone who hesitated got pushed."

"Exactly!" Chuck said. "So you finding my dad, then telling me to come with you like this . . . you pushed me out of the plane."

"You're not upset?" she asked softly, glancing over at him.

"Not really," he admitted. "I mean, I had like a moment of being upset when you first told me, but it was really drowned out by the surprise and nerves."

"And what about now?"

"Now . . ." he said, letting his voice trail off as he figured out just what he was feeling. He shrugged his shoulders. "I'm still nervous about how this is going to go. But pulling the Band-aid off like this will probably make it easier in the long run."

"You are just full of interesting metaphors tonight," Sarah said, her voice light.

"That's what happens when I'm trying not to freak out."

As she made a left-hand turn off the highway, navigating onto a bumpy asphalt road, Sarah glanced at him. "It should be only five minutes now, but it's not too late to turn around, if you don't want to do this tonight."

He shook his head. "No-we've come this far. And it'd probably drive me crazy to not go through with it now."

A silence fell over the car as Sarah drove onto a dirt road, her speed dropping. Chuck clenched his hands in his lap, trying to steady his nerves. This was it-after more than ten years, he was about to see his father.

Sarah double-checked the address on the GPS unit in the middle of the dashboard, then pulled up in front of an Airstream trailer, the last rays of the setting sun bouncing off the shiny metal exterior of the trailer. She turned off the car, the only sound the tick-tick-tick of the engine cooling down.

Chuck took a deep breath. "This is it," he said, repeating his thought out loud.

She nodded. "You want me to wait in the car?"

He answered instinctually. "No." He looked over at her. "I mean, would you please come with me?"

Although she tried to keep her face neutral, he could see some uncertainty in Sarah's eyes. But she nodded. "Okay." With what he thought was an encouraging smile, Sarah stepped out of the car.

Climbing out slowly and stretching his limbs gave Chuck a moment to think. To try and gain control of his emotions. There was anticipation, worry, dread, excitement, all swirling around inside him and making him want to babble, hide in the car and run away, all at once.

Slowly he walked up to the trailer. Sarah's presence at his side, the knowledge that he wasn't alone, was comforting. It made this all seem a little less scary. It reminded him of how it was back in Omaha, when he was grappling with so many changes that he felt lost. This last month had been like then, when he couldn't get his bearings. But now, things seemed to be looking up.

He glanced at her for a moment, both admiring how she looked in the twilight and wishing there was more light so he could see her expression. Then he faced the door of the trailer, took a deep breath, and knocked on the door.

XXX

As he stood in his apartment with his father, Chuck reflected on just how long this night had been. With the drive out to see his father and the long conversation he'd had with Stephen to convince him to come back with him, it had been nearly midnight before Chuck and Stephen had arrived in Glendale. A quick text message to Ellie had confirmed that she got off at midnight, but after working a long shift Chuck wasn't about to drop their father off at her place. Seeing Ellie would have to wait until tomorrow-if he could get Stephen to promise to stay long enough to see her.

"She deserves that, Dad. The chance to see you, to talk to you." Chuck stood by the couch, looking at his father.

Stephen Bartowski was smaller than Chuck remembered. His face was weathered and his features had softened as he had passed middle age. But other things were still the same: his curiosity, his absent-mindedness, his strange sense of kindness.

His father looked at Chuck. "I've come this far."

"So you'll stay?" he asked, hearing the hope in his voice.

Stephen nodded. "I'll stay. I want to see Ellie."

Chuck let out a breath he didn't realize he had been holding. "Great. That's great. Let me get some sheets for the couch-wait, no, you take my bed, I'll take the couch."

"I'm not going to take your bed, son," his father protested. "The couch is more than fine."

Part of him wanted his father to sleep in the bedroom so that it'd be that much harder for him to sneak out while Chuck slept, if that was his plan. But Chuck knew that not trusting Stephen wouldn't be giving this a chance. If he wanted to make a new relationship with his father, he had to be willing to get hurt again, be disappointed again. Because Stephen might surprise him this time.

He took a deep breath. "Okay, Dad. I'll get those sheets."

And in the morning, his father was still there. He'd walked out of his bedroom to find Stephen with a cup of coffee and a bowl of cereal. They'd eaten breakfast together before getting in Chuck's car for the drive to Echo Park. He had only told Ellie that he was coming over with a surprise. He hoped his secrecy wouldn't backfire on him.

Once they had reached Ellie and Devon's apartment, Chuck used his key to let them in. "Ellie?"

"Hey, Chuck!" she called out, her voice coming from her room. "What's this surprise you've got, other than playing hooky from work?" she said as she came down the hall, a big smile on her face.

When she got to the end of the hallway, the smile dropped from her face at the sight of their father. She stared at him, her eyes wide.

"Hello, Eleanor," Stephen said, a smile on his face.

Ellie opened her mouth, then closed it. "Pancakes," she said softly.

"Oh, boy," Stephen said softly.

Chuck looked back and forth between his sister and his father, not understanding what was going on.

"You promised us pancakes and then you left!" Ellie's face was flushed and her eyes glittered with tears.

"El, c'mon," Chuck said softly, stepping over to her and resting a hand on her shoulder. "Dad just got here-we shouldn't open up old wounds."

Ellie shook his hand off her shoulder and took a step back. "How can you just forgive him? He left us and-and I-" She broke off, taking a deep breath as she rubbed a hand across her face. "I need some air." She snatched up her keys from the table by the door and walked out.

"Ellie-" Chuck said, starting to go after her only to stop when his father caught his arm.

"Let her go, son. You know how Ellie is. She needs time to cool down."

Chuck sighed. "Yeah, I know-I just don't understand. She knew I was looking for you, she said she wanted to see you again. It was for her that I started searching."

Stephen sat down heavily in one of the dining room chairs, putting aside the briefcase that he insisted on keeping with him. "Be careful what you wish for-you just might get it. And never promise someone pancakes and then walk out on them."

He sat down across from his father. "Why did you leave?"

His father looked at him for a long moment before replying. "It's complicated, Charles."

"Then explain it to me," he said, resting his arms on the table as he leaned forward. "I'm not thirteen anymore, Dad."

"No, you're not," Stephen said, looking at him wistfully. "You certainly shot up. And a Stanford man, too."

It was all he could do not to bang his head against the table. Why couldn't Stephen just answer his questions? How hard was it to tell your only son why you had to leave him? But if his dad didn't want to talk about why he left, but did want to talk about Chuck's life, then he'd have to take what he could get.

As he talked with his dad, he found himself wishing that Sarah was here. Even with the problems they had been having, the ones they were oh-so-slowly resolving, there was a comfort in having her by his side. It might have taken some convincing to have her here, of course, considering how much time it'd taken for him to persuade her to visit Ellie this summer. But it'd be worth it.

Or would it? Would worrying about Sarah make this situation even more awkward and uncomfortable? Or would she not even want to be here, dealing with messy family drama?

With conscious effort, Chuck shoved such thoughts to the back of his mind. Thinking like that was on par with his craziest delusions. Things weren't so bad between Sarah and himself that he had to come up with new problems to worry about. He just needed to figure out how to talk to Sarah, what to say to her, that would help them start fixing their relationship.

The sound of the door opening made him look up and he felt a wave of relief at the sight of Ellie. Her eyes were a little red, but she looked much more composed than she was a half-hour before.

Stephen got up and faced Ellie. "Okay there, Ellie?"

She nodded, then walked over and gave Stephen a slightly reserved hug. "Yeah." She pulled back and gave him a small smile. "Let me make some coffee and we can start catching up."

Chuck followed Ellie into the kitchen. "You're okay? Really?" he asked her in a low voice.

"Yeah," she said quietly as she filled the coffee pot. "It was just a shock to see him."

"I know what you mean," Chuck said, resting his hand on her shoulder. "I'm sorry for just showing up-I should have called you first. It just all happened so fast."

"It's okay, Chuck," Ellie said, leaning back against the counter. She smiled at him. "I should have known better than to doubt you when you said you'd find him."

He felt his ears turn a bit red at the obvious pride in Ellie's voice. "It was nothing, El-" he started to say, only to stop when his cell phone beeped. He pulled his phone out and checked his text messages, then nearly groaned. It looked like the computer analysis on some Fulcrum data had finished a lot sooner than he thought it would.

"Is it work?" Ellie asked as she poured some coffee into two mugs.

"Yeah . . . looks like the computers need me to tell them what to do next." He looked at Ellie. "I'll only be an hour or so. Do you mind being with Dad until then?"

"Of course I don't mind. Well, I don't know if 'mind' is the right word, but it's okay, really." She grinned at him. "I'm the big sister, stop worrying about me."

Chuck laughed. "Okay, okay." He kissed her cheek lightly. "I'll be back in a while."

He patted his father on the shoulder and then headed off to work. He hoped when he came back that some time together would help both Ellie and Stephen.

XXX

The hour stretched into two, but by the time Chuck got back to Ellie's, his sister and father seemed to be on somewhat better footing. He joined them at the table and slowly, things became more comfortable between the Bartowskis. Devon's arrival helped smooth over the rough spots, too.

Devon and Ellie made dinner and somehow the conversation kept going without hitting any land mines. Afterwards, Stephen offered to help Devon with the dishes; Chuck assumed that his father wanted to talk to Devon. So Chuck drew his sister outside into the courtyard to give Stephen some privacy.

"Oh, today has been a strange day," Ellie said, dropping down to sit on the edge of the fountain in the middle of the courtyard. She took a sip from her wineglass and looked at him.

Chuck nodded as he sat down next to her. "It sure has."

She nudged his shoulder. "I'm surprised Sarah didn't come over for dinner."

"Oh, um . . ." Chuck took a large swallow of wine. "She's on a business trip right now. Down near Mexico."

Ellie looked at him. "You wanna talk?"

"Talk? Talk about what?"

His sister rolled her eyes. "About the problems you're having with Sarah."

He looked at her. "How do you do that?"

"Big sister magic," Ellie said dryly. "Now spill."

Chuck sighed, looking down at his shoes. He drank a little more wine as he gathered his thoughts. "It's been . . . tough. We had such a good time on vacation, but then we got home and things had changed."

"Changed how?"

It was difficult to explain everything to Ellie, since he couldn't tell her the truth about what Sarah and he did. And he hated holding back from his sister, but there had to be a way for him to talk about his relationship with Sarah without mentioning the CIA.

"All I know is that during vacation, I was thinking about how good things were between us. And if maybe it was time to . . . to get more serious."

"You've been together awhile, that's not surprising," Ellie said.

He shrugged. "I dunno. I had these thoughts about whether we could be more in my head, but then . . . it just seemed like we weren't in sync anymore, once we left. We stopped talking, we kept misunderstanding each other. And lately work for both of us seems to keep interfering when we're at the point when we might start talking."

Ellie wrinkled her nose. "And this has been going on since your vacation? That was months ago, Chuck."

"The last few days have been better," Chuck said weakly. "But then Sarah got sent on this business trip and I don't know what will happen when she gets back."

"I think you need to back up. Just what happened to change 'I'm gonna be with Sarah forever!' to 'I barely talk to my girlfriend'," Ellie said, looking at him with a determined look on her face.

Chuck swallowed. He couldn't really bring up the situation with Perseus and Orion, not without having to do a lot of explaining. But it did impact what had happened, so he had to come up with something.

"Sarah and I got assigned to a cross-departmental team at work a while back. And at first, it was great to work together, but then I found out that she hadn't told the team some facts that she knew, about what we were working on. She said it was just a mistake, that it was info she got long before the team was formed and she had forgotten about it until she got reminded. It seemed logical that it happened the way she said . . ."

"But?" Ellie prompted.

"But it made me wonder," Chuck said slowly. "Because Sarah's so closed-off. She has a really hard time talking about her feelings, her past-I barely know anything about her." He looked at Ellie. "I didn't find out until last week that she went to high school in San Diego."

"Chuck, not everyone's like you," Ellie said, reaching out to rub his back. "You're a sharer. You like letting people in."

"I know that," he said, hearing the frustration in his voice. "And I understand that she might not want to tell me everything about herself. But-but I just want to know something. She never wants to talk about herself, so it's hard to ask her to talk about us."

"But have you even tried?" Ellie asked. "You said you haven't been talking."

He knocked back the rest of the wine in his glass. "I just don't know, El."

"If you haven't tried, you deserve to feel this way," Ellie said bluntly.

"Hey," he said, feeling annoyed. "Don't act like you're some expert on relationships just because you're engaged."

"I know I'm not an expert," Ellie said, sounding like she was holding back on the urge to throttle him. "And yeah, it's easy for me to listen and figure out what I think is going on with you and Sarah. But I can't fix your problems-only you can. And that's not gonna happen if you're not willing to put in the work."

Chuck looked down at his glass, wishing he had some more wine. This conversation had gone places he hadn't anticipated, opened him up to thoughts he didn't feel ready for. It wasn't that he blamed Sarah for what had gone wrong with their relationship; he knew he was equally at fault. But maybe he'd made more mistakes than he'd realized.

Ellie nudged his shoulder gently. "Do you love Sarah?"

He nodded immediately, his reaction almost instinctive. "Yeah."

"Then you don't ever give up," Ellie said. "You can never go too far, never do too much."

Chuck looked at his sister, marveling at just how smart she was. Of course she was brilliant, being a doctor and everything. But it was more than that. She was wise and she always knew what to say.

"Big sister magic, indeed," he said, giving her a small smile.

She laughed and hugged him, then pulled back. "I thought when you and Sarah were here on vacation that your honeymoon period had lasted a really long time. I guess that's why you're having such a hard time now."

"'The honeymoon period'?" Chuck asked curiously.

"It's something I read about after Devon broke up with me," she said. "When you start dating someone, everything's great. You laugh at each other's jokes, you can't get enough of each other. But then, after a while, you've gotten to know each other, and the newness wears off a little. Then you've got to find out if, as a couple, the two of you have what it takes to make a long-lasting relationship."

He thought that over, trying to figure out this new concept. But it made a lot of sense. "When it stops being easy, you find out if you care enough about each other to make it work even when it's hard?"

"Exactly." Ellie grinned at him. "See, you knew that deep down. It's just hard to adjust when it stops being easy." She patted his knee and got up. "Take some time and figure out how you can best approach Sarah. If you have to, you might even have to get away from your jobs for a day or so. But the two of you need to talk things out without any interruptions, if you want this to work."

"I do," Chuck said, feeling like he'd come out of a long, dark tunnel. "Sarah is . . . she's everything I want."

Ellie smiled. "I know. It's a place to start. Now you just need to make sure she knows that." She leaned down, picking up their empty wine glasses before she walked back into the apartment.

Chuck stretched out his legs, taking a few moments to think before he rejoined his family. His mind was whirling. Ever since their talk at the house in the suburbs-was it only four days ago?-he had felt things shifting between them. Sarah being the one to initiate a conversation had surprised him. And shamed him. He was the one who wanted her to be more open, to share with him. But when he'd had the opportunities to spend time with just her, to talk to her, he'd avoided them and avoided her.

The time for avoiding their problems was over, though. Sarah had taken the first steps, by talking to him about her past and then by doing the search that found Stephen. He'd gotten so mired in his own thoughts and insecurities that it was like he had been frozen in place. But now he needed to stop thinking and started doing.

Several different plans presented themselves to him, but none of them seemed right. A fancy dinner with flowers and chocolates in a swanky restaurant? Trying to recreate their first date, swapping a moonlight walk in Rome for a nighttime stroll along the beach? No-all these ideas would put too much pressure on them. It might be better to keep things simple. Just find some time to talk, once Sarah got back from her trip south. That would work, wouldn't it?

He took a deep breath and stood up. He could think more about this tonight, once he was alone. But for the first time in weeks, he felt positive when he thought about his relationship with Sarah.

XXX

When he stepped back into the apartment, Chuck immediately felt the tension in the room. He exchanged glances with Ellie, who looked at him gratefully.

"Chuck, Dad's been telling us about how he designed our TV, but it's all a bit beyond Devon and me." She gestured towards their father, who was sitting on the couch in front of the new flat-screen TV that Devon had bought recently. Stephen had spread papers all over the coffee table from his briefcase, most of them crumpled and coffee-stained.

"Right," Chuck said slowly. He walked over and took a seat next to Stephen.

"I started playing with the passive matrix in liquid crystal displays in the late '80s-really out-of-the-box stuff," Stephen said, his voice full of enthusiasm about his project. Chuck remembered that voice so well: his dad getting caught up in describing what he was working on and not really noticing that his listener couldn't follow what he was saying.

"Yeah, Dad?" Chuck said when Stephen fell silent.

Stephen shuffled some papers. "If Ted Roark hadn't stolen the idea from me, patented it for himself, we'd all be very different people now," he muttered darkly.

Chuck shook his head, not sure if he had heard his father correctly. "I'm sorry, you said Ted Roark stole your idea?"

Ted Roark combined the showmanship of Steve Jobs, the technical brilliance of Bill Gates, and the sheer hardcore nerdiness of Steve Wozniak into one man. Chuck had once dreamed of working for Roark Instruments, maybe even meeting the man himself one day. He had no idea his father had known Ted Roark, let alone worked with him.

"He did. Stole 'em for years, until I managed to get out of the contract we had," Stephen said, sounding both vague and disgruntled. "He keeps finding me, though. Rubbing my nose in his success." Stephen proffered a glossy card.

Taking his father's paranoia with a large grain of salt, Chuck took the card. He glanced over it, seeing that it was the type of card that would be passed around at tech shows or bundled in magazines.

But as he read over the details about the newest version of RIOS, the operating system designed by Ted Roark, he suddenly realized that his dad might be right to be paranoid about Roark.

_A horseshoe-the Roark Instruments logo-electrical circuit diagrams-a map of an office complex-a picture of Ted Roark-the word FULCRUM-a horseshoe_

Chuck took a deep breath, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment. The red tinge to that flash told him that the intel had come from the Fulcrum Intersect. He'd gotten used to the Intersect, to not thinking about what was inside his head. But now, it was like when he first got it, when the Intersect felt as strange as Luke's bionic hand. He kept being surprised when he had a flash that was made up of Fulcrum data.

Roark Instruments had a connection to Fulcrum. What that connection was seemed obvious: the Intersect. It made sense that the terrorist group would go to a computer company for help building a very unique computer like the Intersect. The Intersect team's mission to the suburbs had damaged Fulcrum's prototype Intersect, but if they wanted to eliminate Fulcrum for once and for all, removing Roark as a resource would be crucial.

He couldn't wait to get into the office and start researching Roark Instruments, seeing what, if anything, linked them to Fulcrum. He'd also need to make contact with Sarah and Casey, possibly even with their superiors, and alert them to this flash. It was hard not to get carried away, imagining destroying Fulcrum and removing that threat from the world. But before he could go to the office and start working, he needed to calm down his dad.

Drawing his father into conversation wasn't difficult. As he listened to Stephen, Chuck's mind kept replaying the flash. The sooner that Fulcrum was defeated, the sooner that there would be one less thing drawing his attention from what was really important: his relationship with Sarah.

XXX

Bright and early the next morning, Chuck headed into the office. Ellie had offered to have Stephen stay with her, since she had a two bedroom apartment. Right now, their father was probably taking apart that new TV. Chuck hoped that Stephen would be able to put it back together, but he was more focused on beginning his research on Roark Instruments and Fulcrum.

Booting up his computer, he quickly began searching for RI in the CIA's files as well as publicly-known information. The CIA search would take longer, so he focused first on the magazine and newspaper articles, stock reports and other publicity pieces. He was trying to make sense of RI's shareholder's report when he heard the soft ping of an incoming video conference request.

Chuck turned around in his chair and accepted the request, then smiled when he saw Sarah and Casey. "Hey, how's very southern California?"

"Hot," Sarah said, giving him a small smile while Casey grunted.

"Wish I had packed my desert fatigues," he said grumpily.

Sarah shot Casey a look, then turned back to the screen. It looked like they were in the front seat of Casey's Crown Victoria. "Anything to report on Fulcrum?"

"Not on Fulcrum itself, but I do have a lead on something that might help us really knock them out," Chuck said eagerly. "I had a flash last night from the Fulcrum Intersect-I think Fulcrum got help from Ted Roark in creating their Intersect."

"Ted Roark, the computer guy?" Casey asked. "Why would he wanna help a bunch of terrorists?"

"He might not know they're terrorists," Sarah pointed out.

"And if they just came to him with the idea, if he's anything like me or the other tech guys I've known, the idea would inspire him enough to not not care about what the Intersect was being used for," Chuck said.

Sarah nodded. "Have you found any confirmation so far?"

"Yeah, not so much," Chuck said ruefully. "But I'm just getting started." He paused, taking in Sarah's appearance. She looked sweaty and a bit tired, but there was something else that seemed a bit off with her.

"How's it going for you guys?" he asked.

"Slow," Sarah said, blowing out a breath. "We've had the possible Orion location staked out, but we haven't seen any activity since we arrived. It might be empty."

"Dunno how a nerd could slip past the best intelligence forces in the world. I think he's just hiding," Casey said.

Chuck nodded. "How much longer will you be staying there?"

"I think, if we don't see any changes by tomorrow morning, we'll pull back and return to LA," Sarah said.

"That's great," Chuck said, smiling at the screen. "It'll be good to have you back."

"Keep it in your pants, Bartowski," Casey said with a smirk.

Laughing a little to cover his embarrassment, Chuck went on. "It's just better when the whole team's together. And once you guys get back, we might be able to start making the big push against Fulcrum."

"That would be great," Sarah agreed. "We'll see you tomorrow, Chuck."

He waved at the screen and Sarah gave him a quick smile that was more natural and more open than at the start of the conversation, which sent a rush of warmth through him. Then she ended the video conference.

Chuck turned back to his computer. He didn't know much about finance and accounting-that was more Sarah's department-but he could at least keep reading and see if anything jumped out at him. And hopefully the CIA had enough information to confirm his flash.

It took several hours of research before Chuck realized that he had nothing that could confirm the intel from the Fulcrum Intersect. Oh, the CIA had information on Ted Roark, of course. But there wasn't anything to indicate that Roark or his company had any dealings with Fulcrum.

That couldn't be right. There had to be something. Chuck felt a vague sense of panic as he reviewed the CIA's files. Fulcrum couldn't have managed to keep something like this secret. Even if Fulcrum was working directly with Ted Roark and his company had nothing to do with the Intersect, there had to be some kind of trail. Because if there wasn't any confirmation, he'd be right back where he started.

He sighed and ran a hand through his hair, trying to figure out what to do next. It was well past lunchtime; perhaps he should take a break, eat something and gather his thoughts.

The sound of the office's door opening made his head whip around and his eyes widened when he saw a very bedraggled Sarah and Casey walk in.

"What happened?" he asked, standing up and crossing the office. "You guys look like you were in an explosion."

Both Casey and Sarah's clothes were ripped and covered in dirt, while Sarah's hair looked like she had gotten caught in a wind tunnel.

"You guessed right," Sarah said, dropping down into a chair. She tried to run her hands through her hair, only for her fingers to get stuck in a knot. She pulled her hands away, looking annoyed.

"What?" Chuck said shrilly.

"You heard her-you were right, we got caught in an explosion." Casey limped to another chair and slumped down.

Chuck's eyes flicked back and forth between the two of them. "Would someone please explain what's going on?"

Sarah shrugged. "We were doing surveillance on Orion's location when a couple of cars full of men came driving up to the house. We started approaching the house after they entered, but before we got too far a Predator drone dropped in and blew up the house."

"Whoa," Chuck said. He took a few steps closer to Sarah. "Are you okay?"

She gave him a small smile. "Casey's got a sprained ankle, which is making him grumpy because I had to drive the Crown Victoria back here. I'm fine."

"Good-that's good. Great, even," Chuck said, feeling his worries recede. "Casey, are you sure you don't want to go to the emergency room?"

"For a sprained ankle?" Casey asked, disgust dripping from his voice.

Chuck looked at Sarah, who was grinning a little. "Oh," Chuck said. "Never mind, then."

Casey smirked and stood up. "I'm goin' home."

"I can drive you, Casey, if you want," Sarah said, moving to stand up, but Casey waved her off.

"Nah, get Bartowski to drive you home."

Sarah shrugged. "All right. See you tomorrow."

"Bye, Casey," Chuck said. Casey nodded curtly and limped out of the office. Once Casey was gone, Chuck turned to Sarah. "I hope he'll be okay."

"Casey will be fine," Sarah said. "It's just a sprained ankle."

He looked at her curiously. "I sprained my ankle when we were on that mission in Florence and it wasn't 'just a sprain' to you then. You acted like I had broken my leg."

She shifted in her chair, looking uncomfortable, like she had been put on the spot. "That was different. Casey's got years more experience than you and knows how to manage injuries-and besides, you . . ." Her voice trailed off and Chuck watched as she seemed to struggle with what to say. Then she swallowed and sat up in her chair. "You said this morning you had a lead?"

Chuck took a deep breath, trying not to get angry at her for changing the subject. With what she'd gone through today, he could understand Sarah not being too eager to get into a discussion that could be very draining. But this was definitely something they'd be talking about soon. "I do. But we can talk about all this tomorrow, when Casey's here and you're fresh. I mean, you probably want to go home and get a shower."

"Yeah, I would like to clean up," Sarah said. She looked at him, then spoke hesitantly. "Casey and I need to report in to Graham and Beckman about Orion. The briefing's set for six tonight. We could tell them what you found out."

"It's not much," Chuck said. "I can't find any confirmation that Ted Roark has been working with Fulcrum."

"Just because the CIA doesn't have anything doesn't mean it's not possible. And I'm sure all of us would be interested in hearing about this," Sarah said as she stood up. "I'll be back around five-thirty."

"Don't you need a ride?" Chuck asked, rising up from his chair.

Sarah paused, then sighed. "Yeah, I do. Sorry."

"No, no, it's okay. I still haven't eaten lunch, so I can get something after I drop you off." He pulled his keys out of his pocket and followed Sarah as she headed towards the parking lot.

"Thanks for the lift," Sarah said, glancing up at him.

"No problem," Chuck said, trying to keep his voice light as he wondered whether he should ask Sarah about making some time for themselves. They'd never had that dinner they planned to have, after they came back from the suburbs. He could ask if they could cash in that raincheck, maybe tonight after the briefing, and perhaps then they could start talking . . .

They had been in the car several minutes before Sarah broke the silence between them. "How's your dad?"

"Okay. Not that different from how I remembered him, actually," Chuck said, looking over at her. "He's staying with Ellie now."

"I'm glad things are okay," Sarah said quietly.

"Me, too," Chuck said as he pulled into the parking lot at their apartment complex. He parked the car, trying to work up his courage to ask Sarah to dinner. He opened his mouth to speak, but before he could find the right words, Sarah gave him a small smile and stepped out of the car quickly. Before he knew it, she was inside the building and his chance was gone.

Chuck blew out a breath. Sarah was probably just in a hurry to get cleaned up. That's all it was. He should go get lunch and do some more research, see if he'd have any real knowledge to present at the briefing tonight. Then he could ask Sarah to grab a pizza with him or something. That would work.

So he turned his car around and headed back to the office. And he hoped that this time, he'd actually do what he planned to do.

XXX

True to her word, Sarah arrived back at the office shortly before five-thirty, looking polished and refreshed with clean hair and a professional skirt suit. Casey ambled in about fifteen minutes later, giving Chuck enough time to explain his flash and what he'd found so far.

"I've combed through Roark Instruments' publicly-available contracts and projects, as well as looking at Ted Roark himself, but I can't find anything that links him or the company with Fulcrum," Chuck said, hearing the frustration in his voice.

"It happens," Casey said, shrugging his shoulders.

"And it doesn't mean the intel isn't good, Chuck," Sarah said. "Although since it comes from Fulcrum, I don't trust it."

"Which is why I wanted confirmation," Chuck said, spinning around in his desk chair as a way to let out his annoyance.

"There's ways to get confirmation other than buryin' yourself in files, Bartowski," Casey said, reaching out with a foot to stop Chuck.

He grabbed onto the arms of his desk chair so he wouldn't fall out of it thanks to the sudden stop. "I know that, Casey, but I'd like to have something more than a flash to go on."

"Wouldn't be the first time we did something 'cause of what you flashed on," Casey pointed out.

Chuck nodded, accepting the accuracy of Casey's remark, as he glanced at his watch. "Time to get started." He quickly started up the video feeds, bringing up Beckman and Graham's offices.

"Agents, Major," Beckman said crisply. For once, the general wasn't dressed in her uniform, but in a refined black dress.

"General! You look-" Chuck stopped himself from saying anything more. It probably wasn't wise to comment on your boss's appearance.

Beckman arched an eyebrow. "Yes, Agent Bartowski?"

"Nothing," he said meekly.

If Chuck didn't know better, it would seem that Director Graham was trying to hold back laughter. "Let's start with the Orion situation."

"Yes, sir," Sarah said quickly. "Major Casey and I put the location under surveillance upon our arrival. We were uncertain if anyone was currently residing in the house. At approximately eleven hundred hours today, three black Lincolns pulled up to the suspected Orion base. Seven men gained entry to the house. Major Casey and I began to move in when a Predator drone bombed the house." She paused for a moment, then continued. "We chose to return to Los Angeles since we didn't want to draw attention to ourselves. According to initial reports from the local coroner's office, eight bodies were recovered."

"Eight, Agent?" General Beckman asked. "Only seven men entered. Someone must have been in that house, then."

"Looks like it, General," Casey said. "If it was Orion-"

"He's deader than a doornail now," Beckman snapped out.

"Yes, ma'am," Sarah said quietly.

"Orion's been known to outwit death before," Graham said. "It might have been a way to throw his enemies off his trail."

Beckman didn't look convinced. "Let's hope so, Director Graham," she said grudgingly. "If there's nothing else to report, I have more flesh to press. I hate election season."

"I have something, General Beckman, Director Graham," Chuck said, taking a step closer to the video screens. "I flashed on intelligence from the Fulcrum Intersect. Since I haven't been able to confirm this information through the CIA, I'm concerned about its validity."

"What is this information, Agent Bartowski?" Graham asked, leaning in towards the screen as was his habit.

"Apparently, Fulcrum has relied upon the technical knowledge of Ted Roark to create their Intersect," Chuck said, trying not to give away his nervousness. He wasn't sure what their bosses might do with this information, especially since he couldn't prove it.

Graham looked intrigued. "That's very interesting. You know more about the computer industry, Agent-do you think it's possible?"

Chuck licked his lips. "Anything is possible. Ted Roark is enough of an individualist to be willing to take on a project that has no guarantee of success, something that's not commercial and is just a challenge for him. And his reputation is that he's smart enough to achieve the impossible-which is what most people would think when told about the Intersect."

"Yet you have nothing that links Roark to Fulcrum?" Beckman asked.

He shook his head. "The CIA hasn't seen any signs of a connection. I researched Roark's financials, but there's no payments from Fulcrum shell companies, no checks cashed from unknown sources, nothing."

"Perhaps the CIA could arrange surveillance of Roark while further investigating his company?" Sarah suggested.

"Even I know that Ted Roark is paranoid about his privacy," Beckman said. "Surveillance would tip him off-and alert Fulcrum."

"Send someone in undercover," Casey said. "Keep the operation small enough, it might slip under the radar and get us what we need."

"An inside man," Graham mused. "The idea has merit, Major Casey."

"Agent Bartowski, your background is in computers. You could be the agent," Beckman said.

"Me?" Chuck asked in disbelief.

Beckman looked at him like she thought he was a drooling idiot. Chuck swallowed. "I mean, yes, General, I have a computer engineering degree from Stanford. But I've never gone undercover-"

"I'm sure your teammates can share their knowledge with you while we plan this assignment," Beckman said.

"Agent Walker, draw up a plan for Agent Bartowski's undercover operation at Roark Instruments," Graham directed. "This is a top priority."

"Yes, sir," Sarah said, glancing at Chuck. He felt his nerves increase, wondering what she was thinking about.

"This team has already achieved much to weaken Fulcrum," Graham said, his eyes sweeping over them. "Take away the mind behind their Intersect and all that's left will be picking up the pieces."

"I'll do my best, sir," Chuck said, hoping his voice didn't shake like he thought it did.

Graham nodded and ended the video feed. Chuck turned to look at Casey and Sarah, trying not to freak out. "Me, go undercover?"

"I'm not thrilled by this, either," Sarah said. She shot Casey a look. "You could have told us before you sprung that on us."

"And listen to Bartowski act like a big girl over it? No, thanks."

"Chuck can't trust anything the Fulcrum Intersect provides him," Sarah said, an edge in her voice. "Going into Roark Instruments under those conditions is risky. Too risky."

"You sayin' you CIA agents need help to do a simple little undercover assignment?" Casey snorted.

Chuck stepped in before this turned into something worse than a little name-calling. "Hey, hey, it's okay." He took Sarah's arm and drew her away from Casey, who rolled his eyes and left the conference room.

"Sarah, what's going on?" he asked her quietly, looking down at her.

"Casey clearly thought of the undercover idea before the briefing but didn't talk to us about it first," Sarah said, sounding angry. "You don't cut your team members off at the knees like that."

"Okay, it wasn't a nice thing to do," Chuck conceded, "but it wasn't that bad, Sarah."

She sighed and ran a hand through her hair. "You've only been an agent for barely a year, and they're sending you undercover already. It took me three years before I had an undercover assignment. I just think they're rushing you."

"Maybe they are, but it's important to take out Fulcrum. And it's not like you or Casey could work at Roark Instruments," Chuck said.

"What about the Intersect?" she asked, looking up at him. "You can't depend on it right now."

"It's not like I'm only working with the Fulcrum version. I've still got the CIA's version, too, and it's working fine," Chuck said, feeling equal parts annoyance and confusion at Sarah's reaction. She seemed to have some strange double-standard: he had to exist in a bubble, while Casey could do missions regardless of his physical condition. He knew that Casey-and Sarah, for that matter-had more experience than he did, but he was a spy just like them. And although he was worried about going undercover, he knew he could do this.

Sarah started to pace. "I know that. But it's still dangerous to send you in when we don't know how the Intersect will work. You barely got checked out after the Fulcrum Intersect was uploaded. I'd feel better if you went to DC and had a full check-up."

"Are you more worried about me or about the Intersect?" he said, feeling his patience snap.

"What on earth do you mean?" Sarah asked, her forehead wrinkled.

"I mean, do you think I can do this or not, Sarah?" He stepped closer to her, looking at her. "Leave the Intersect out of it-what's got you so worried about me going undercover? The only thing I can come up with is that you think I can't do it."

Sarah blinked, looking completely shocked. "That's not what I think at all," she said after a long moment. "I know you can do this-but that doesn't stop me from worrying."

Chuck took a deep breath, trying to push down his anger. "Sarah, I'm worried, too. But you heard Graham-this could be what we need to shut down Fulcrum."

"It seems like every time we turn around, there's another mission that could eliminate Fulcrum," Sarah said, a touch of bitterness in her voice. "It seems to me that Fulcrum is like a hydra: cut off a head and two more grows in its place."

"Believe me, I feel the same way," Chuck said. Taking a risk, he reached out and rested his hands on her shoulders. "The only way I'm going to be able to go undercover is with your help, Sarah." He gazed at her. "And the last thing I want to do is fight with you before we have to separate for a mission."

He could see a myriad of emotions play out over her face, then she closed her eyes. He watched as she appeared to collect herself, waiting and hoping for some sign that she understood what he was saying.

When she opened her eyes, she looked resigned but sympathetic. "You're right." She took a deep breath. "I'm still worried. But you're going to go into this mission with every single strategy to succeed while undercover."

Chuck felt a smile bloom on his face. "Yeah?"

She nodded, smiling in return. "Yeah." She gently poked a finger in the middle of his chest. "And tomorrow night, we're having dinner." Her bravado faded a little. "I think we have some things to talk about."

His heart beat faster as he nodded. "Yeah, we do."

End, Chapter 9


	10. Chapter 10

Sarah leaned close to the bathroom mirror, putting the finishing touches on her makeup. She was trying for a natural look, something that wasn't too dramatic. Tonight she would be having dinner with Chuck, which would hopefully be a chance for them to do the talking they'd been putting off for weeks. Chuck would be arriving with Chinese food any minute now.

Taking a step back, Sarah took in her appearance. She was wearing a pair of jeans that were faded and well-worn, along with one of her favorite tank tops: black with a butterfly pattern down her spine. Her hair was loose and her feet were bare.

It was a simple look, one designed to look like she had just thrown it together. According to the advice she'd found online, a good way to start a difficult conversation was by being comfortably dressed. Of course, creating this simple, casual look had taken her over an hour, but she had needed something to help her keep her nerves at bay while she waited for Chuck to arrive.

There was plenty to be nervous about. She was tired of how their relationship had been in limbo for so long. It was like they weren't even together anymore. It had been weeks since they'd made love. She was starting to think the CIA never wanted her to have sex again.

Her cheeks flushed as she remembered how she had reacted to the few casual touches she'd shared with Chuck lately. Just holding his hand could fluster her. Apparently, neither of them were the kind of people to use sex as a way of avoiding their problems; their lack of physical intimacy stemmed from their communication issues. At least, the Googling she had done had indicated that. All the websites agreed that if they were going to be close again, they had to work out their problems first.

Her last mission away from Chuck made her realize just how much she missed him. Not just the physical aspect, but just talking to him. Hearing him laugh and knowing she had caused that reaction. All the little things that she had been living without and were now so close to being hers again. If only they could find the time to talk.

Every time they had gotten close to talking and working out their problems, their jobs had interfered. Splitting them up for separate missions, keeping them so busy they were too tired for their personal lives . . . she was starting to wonder if Graham was trying to take the decision, the one he had warned her about, out of her hands. If he wanted her to choose her career or Chuck.

She blew out a breath and started cleaning up her makeup from the bathroom counter. That was rather paranoid, even for her. And their problems weren't just the CIA's fault. She had certainly dodged opportunities to talk to Chuck and so had he. At least they were trying now, even if their timing still wasn't ideal, since Chuck was getting ready to go undercover soon.

But that all was happening the day after tomorrow. The next two days were about finalizing the details of Chuck's undercover mission at Roark Instruments-a mission she still disagreed with, but orders were orders. And she wasn't going to let Chuck go into this assignment without everything he'd need to make it work.

Tonight was for Chuck and Sarah. No interruptions, no excuses: just the two of them together.

It took all her willpower to not play with her hair or fidget with the pillows on the couch. But Sarah Walker didn't fidget, so she made herself go into the kitchen and double-check on the drinks cooling in the fridge. But she couldn't help looking at her watch and tapping her foot against the floor. Chuck should be here by now . . . where was he?

The knock on her front door made her jump. She felt a flash of embarrassment at her actions, but right now, she wasn't really feeling like a spy. She felt more like a teenage girl waiting for her first date.

But this wasn't her first date. She was a grown woman, a spy for the Central Intelligence Agency, and all she wanted was to spend the evening with her boyfriend. And to get that, all she had to do was open the door.

After taking a deep breath, Sarah unlocked the deadbolt and let the door swing open. She hoped the smile on her face wasn't too eager. "Hi, Chuck."

Chuck had no such worries, if the size of his smile was anything to judge by. "Hey, Sarah." He held up a plastic bag. "I come bearing sizzling shrimp."

She stepped back, feeling butterflies in her stomach. "Sizzling shrimp?"

"Morgan recommended this place-said they have the best Chinese food in the greater LA area. He's my go-to guy for food," Chuck said, walking just inside her apartment. He looked around curiously. "Your apartment hasn't changed much."

"No, I guess not . . . I mean, how much can you change a furnished apartment?" she asked, feeling at a loss for words. She swallowed and held her arms out. "I'll take the food. Have a seat."

"Okay," Chuck said, walking over to sit down at the small table that occupied the dining nook off the kitchen.

She watched him out of the corner of her eye as she opened up the paper containers and put rice, vegetables and shrimp on two plates. Chuck sat down for a moment, then stood up and slid off his jacket, revealing a deep red t-shirt to go with his jeans and always-present sneakers. It was a good look for him, one that he'd often worn in the villa on weekends.

Sarah cleared her throat. "What can I get you to drink? I've got water, sodas, beer . . ."

"Water's fine," Chuck said, draping his jacket over the back of his chair.

"Okay," she said quickly. She grabbed two bottles of water from the fridge and carried them out to the table, along with chopsticks. "I'll be right back with the food."

He gave her a small smile. "Take your time. Well, not too much-we wouldn't want the food to get cold. But don't rush." His ears had gone a little red by the time he stopped talking and Sarah had to bite back a laugh. Instead, she just went into the kitchen and came back with two plates, setting one down in front of him.

She slid into her seat, putting her plate down and taking another deep breath. Breathing deeply seemed to be the only way she could keep her nerves under control and not blurt out the first thing she was thinking. She'd never had that problem before-the urge to say whatever thought came into her mind. Normally when she was nervous, she got more silent, more composed. But not around Chuck.

For a few moments, there was only the sound of chopsticks hitting plates. Sarah glanced at Chuck as she ate slowly, giving herself a mental pep talk. They could do this. Just becoming a couple had meant talking to each other, learning how to interact. They just had to get back in sync with each other.

Sarah sipped her water. "Morgan was right-this is delicious."

Chuck nodded as he chewed and swallowed. "He's never lead me wrong when it comes to food."

She couldn't help laughing softly. "That implies there's other things that he's been wrong about."

"Well, let's just say that we don't see eye-to-eye on whether Hong Kong wire fu films are good."

He smiled at her and she smiled back, even though she wasn't sure what kind of movies he was talking about. That was the thing about Chuck, though-even though she often didn't understand his references, his enthusiasm never failed to make her smile.

This was what she had been missing. And they could have a whole evening like this, of little jokes and sharing dinner and soft smiles. But that wouldn't help their deeper issues. So even though she wished they could just be, she squared her shoulders a little.

"Chuck . . . I'm a little-I don't understand what you meant yesterday. When you asked if I cared about you or the Intersect?"

She almost held her breath as she waited for his answer. Chuck lowered his chopsticks, resting the tips on the edge of his plate. He looked at her, his eyes uncertain and his forehead wrinkled.

"I know I'm not as experienced as you and Casey, but sometimes . . . it feels like you-" Chuck paused and licked his lips. "It's like you think I can only be a spy because of the Intersect."

"What?" she said, staring at him.

Chuck shifted in his chair, ducking his head a little. "Maybe it's because you were there, watching me learn-you trained me, Sarah. But sometimes it's like you're still the instructor and I'm still the student," he said, his words coming faster. "And you're trying to teach me how to be a spy, but I've been doing this long enough, I'm getting good on my own and I don't need a teacher." He lifted his head and looked at her, his jaw set. "I need a partner."

His words sparked a dozen different reactions within her. She had no idea that Chuck felt like she thought he wasn't good enough. But it couldn't have been because of what she had done-it had to be his own issues.

"What do you think I have been for nearly the last year?" she asked, fixing her eyes on him. "I don't understand-tell me what I've done that says I'm still your instructor."

"How about the times when I sprained my ankle and when Casey did?" Chuck said, pushing aside his plate and leaning in towards her. "You were ready to put a cast on me and keep me out of the field for a month, while Casey was just going to walk it off."

"That-that was different," she said, stumbling over her words a little. "Casey had finished the mission-when you hurt your ankle, we hadn't begun the mission."

"So? I could have gotten the job done."

"You could barely walk, Chuck!" Sarah said, hearing her voice go up in volume. "And you didn't tell Casey or me about the sprain-if you had told us right away, we could have adjusted, moved back the timetable, changed our roles, something. But you kept quiet because you thought you had to be macho."

"I wasn't being macho." Chuck's voice was firm and level. "I was just trying to do my job."

She shook her head. "Chuck, it's not just about getting the job done. It's about trusting your team."

He opened his mouth, clearly ready to say something, only to stop and close his mouth. He leaned back in his chair and rubbed a hand over his face, taking a moment.

Sarah could feel herself breathing hard. She tried to slow her breathing as she replayed their conversation. He'd stayed calm and in control while she'd gotten angry and defensive. Maybe . . . maybe there was some truth in what he was saying.

Clearing her throat, she spoke softly. "Maybe you're right. I . . . I do treat you differently."

Chuck moved his hand away, looking at her with a sad expression on his face. She didn't like seeing him looking like that. Like she thought less of him.

"But I treat you differently because-because of how I feel about you," she said, trying to express what she was feeling. "And I can't change that. I'm always going to worry about you."

It took a moment for that sad expression to vanish from his face, to be replaced with a look of hope. "So . . . it's not because you don't think I can do this?" Chuck gestured at himself. "Be a spy?"

She looked at him for a long moment, taking in how he seemed to be waiting for her answer. Like all he needed from her was her support, her encouragement.

"Yes. I think you can do this." She did her best to smile at him and show her belief in him. "I actually think you can be a great spy."

A slow smile spread across his face. "Yeah?"

Sarah nodded. "Yeah." She gave him a small smile in return, feeling a sense of progress. Yes, talking about work was only scratching the surface of their problems. She knew that things weren't fixed, not yet. But at least they had taken another step forward.

It was a start.

XXX

There was a spring in her step as she walked into the office the next morning, carrying a tray of coffees and a bag of doughnuts. There was a long day of work ahead of them, prepping Chuck and reporting to Graham and Beckman, but Sarah was feeling good.

Last night they had kept talking, mostly about work and how they could be more effective. It was hard for her to communicate like that with anyone. She'd never really had someone who wanted her to talk to them, who wanted to understand her. It was still surprising to her that Chuck wanted to know her. That for him, it wasn't enough to have her in his life and the ego boost that gave him. Actually, she didn't even think he cared that much what she looked like. He appreciated her appearance, of course, but that wasn't the important thing to him.

So talking about work had almost felt like a letdown, even though it was a much-needed conversation.

Perhaps they could find a little time tomorrow night, after she had her bridesmaid dress fitting with Ellie and before he'd start his job at Roark. Just enough time to broach their personal problems and let Chuck know that no matter what, she was in this for the long haul. Even if that was how long it would take her to be as open as he was.

Sarah couldn't help a small, ironic smile from twisting her lips as she set down the coffee and doughnuts.

"You got me a bearclaw, right?" Casey's voice drew her out of her thoughts. She turned around, taking in his Saturday outfit of pressed jeans and a polo shirt.

"Yes, Casey, of course." She opened the bag and extracted his bearclaw, handing it over to him along with his coffee.

He nodded and sat down at his desk. "Bartowski ready to go undercover?"

She swallowed a bite of doughnut and nodded. "He's pretty close. We're going to do some role plays to help him feel comfortable. Then we've got that briefing."

"Yep." Casey paused and looked at her. "You sore at me about the undercover thing?"

"A little," Sarah said, giving him a long look. "Don't do that again-have an idea and present it to the bosses without telling us first."

Casey snorted. "Stop mommying Bartowski. He can handle it."

"It's not about Chuck," she said. "It's about the team."

He snorted softly. "Yeah, sure, Walker." And with that, he went back to his coffee and bearclaw.

She held back a sigh and settled in at her desk, waiting for Chuck to arrive. Working together as a team would only benefit their work, but it seemed like Casey would take a while longer to understand that point of view. At least his criticisms of Chuck had eased up over the last few weeks.

At this point, the plan for Chuck's undercover mission was set. He would go into Roark wearing a pair of glasses with a built-in video camera, allowing Sarah and Casey to observe what Chuck saw and capture evidence of any incriminating activity. Instead of his normal watch with a built-in microphone with a small range, he'd be using one that would capture sound within a much broader range. Since Chuck would be staying in his apartment in Glendale and commuting to the Roark complex in Irvine, he'd still be available for meetings with the team when he got home from work.

"Hey."

Sarah looked up, a smile forming on her face when she saw Chuck. "Hi." She held the bag of doughnuts and his coffee out to him.

He grinned at her. "If I had known I'd be getting breakfast, I would have gotten here a half hour ago." Taking the food and drink, he set them down at his desk and pulled his messenger bag off.

"Well, you're here now," Sarah said, feeling like a schoolgirl. She took a sip of coffee to ground herself. "I was just going over the last details on your mission. How has it gone with the work on your cell phone?"

"I'm nearly done," Chuck said, taking a large bite of his doughnut. He continued talking once he had chewed and swallowed. "By the end of today, it should be encrypted enough that the security will be nearly unbreakable."

"That's good news," Sarah said, making a note of his progress.

"I'm still a bit worried about the commute," Chuck said, stretching his legs out in front of him. "With no traffic, it's an hour on the 5 from my apartment to Roark. But there's never no traffic on the 5."

Sarah considered his words for a moment. "That is a problem. We should come up with something in your legend in case anyone asks why you're commuting for so far. Perhaps that you're finishing out your lease."

Chuck nodded. "That would work. If I'm still at Roark after two weeks or so, though, I think I'll definitely need to find something closer to Irvine."

"We can do that," Sarah agreed.

He looked at her for a moment, then smiled. She couldn't help smiling back. This was much more to her liking. This was what working with Chuck should be like: working in sync, finding solutions to problems. She was still worried about this assignment, but she knew he'd be going in prepared.

Sarah straightened up in her chair, realizing that they were sitting and smiling at each other with Casey fifteen feet away. "How about we get started on those role plays?"

"Sounds good to me. Let's get started."

He scooted his chair over closer to hers and Sarah took a deep breath. It was time to focus on work.

XXX

"Report."

Beckman's voice was firm and no-nonsense, like always, but today she seemed extra-crisp.

With help from Chuck, Sarah explained the plan that the team had created for the assignment, highlighting how Casey and herself would be able to move almost immediately on any intelligence that Chuck was able to feed them.

"I'm afraid there needs to be some adjustment to your operation," Graham said.

"Fulcrum has gotten increasingly desperate, according to chatter we've received," Beckman said. "What's worse, they're using their double agents' knowledge to rob several supply depots-CIA, NSA, even the one at Edwards." So Beckman's rank of an Air Force general wasn't a cover, Sarah thought. The older woman seemed personally insulted that Fulcrum had attacked a USAF installation.

"They've made off with millions of dollars in equipment," Graham said. "We don't want them to eavesdrop on any of your electronic communications. Agent Bartowski, we want you to be closer to the Roark campus and restrict your contact with the rest of the team. That includes new living accommodations, closer to Roark Instruments. Agent Walker, Major Casey, establish dead drop locations and a protocol. We can't tip off Fulcrum that we're investigating Ted Roark."

It was on the tip of her tongue to protest. To say that it would be too dangerous. But her conversation with Chuck the night before made Sarah bite back her objections. He had a point: she couldn't keep treating him differently or holding him back just because they were involved. And she didn't want their superiors to think Chuck couldn't do this.

Chuck had been challenged before-during his training, when they first started working together and as they tried to take down Fulcrum. He'd always managed to succeed. This undercover mission was just another challenge for him, one that he could do if she showed that she supported him.

"Understood, Director," she said. "If Major Casey and myself won't be working as closely with Agent Bartowski on this mission, what would you like us to focus on? Searching for Orion?"

"Orion's trail has gone cold," Graham said. "We have to assume, at this point, that he was killed when Fulcrum moved in on him. A regrettable loss."

"And all the more reason for us to not let up the pressure on Fulcrum," Beckman said. "Therefore, Agent Bartowski? When you complete your assignment at Roark, we'll expect you in D.C. The new version of the Intersect is ready for upload."

Sarah couldn't help exchanging glances with Chuck, feeling shocked at this news. With everything going on with them, both personally and professionally, the potential Intersect upgrade hadn't been something she had been thinking about. The news that Chuck would receive an upgrade felt like a bombshell, one that could upset all the plans for them.

With the Fulcrum Intersect still in Chuck's head, the questions about Perseus's role in creating the Intersect 2.0 and the speedy development of the new Intersect, Sarah didn't know where to start when it came to expressing her doubts about this. It seemed that the CIA and NSA were so determined to eliminate Fulcrum that they were grasping at anything that might take out the terrorist group for good. She didn't really understand why they were abandoning the slow-and-steady approach. Perhaps it had something to do with it being an election year. They needed to make a splash, prove that the intelligence agencies were worth their portion of the budget. Still, she didn't agree with this.

Chuck took a step closer to the screen. "General, Director, I have serious reservations about this upgrade. I'd rather have the chance to learn more about the new version and get my questions answered before an upload date is set."

"There's no need to hesitate, Agent Bartowski," Graham said, his voice slightly patronizing. "This upgrade will provide a major boost to the Intersect with some new abilities. I understand that it will correct several errors that you and the Intersect scientists have discovered. And after all, receiving the original upload was the hardest part."

"Director-"

"We need to fight Fulcrum with everything we've got," Beckman interrupted. "Every tool, every weapon. That includes you, Agent Bartowski." She paused. "I can understand your concerns, which you will be able to satisfy once you arrive in D.C. But you will receive the Intersect upgrade, Agent Bartowski."

Sarah looked at Chuck, noting how his jaw was clenched. She wished she could reach out and take his hand, give him a sign that she understood what he was feeling. But she couldn't do that in front of their bosses.

Or . . . maybe she could. Flicking her eyes around quickly, she took in how much Graham and Beckman could see. Even though Casey was standing on her other side and could see what she was about to do, Sarah reached out just enough to touch Chuck's hip.

His head gave a half-turn, looking away from the video screens and at her. She gave him a small nod, hoping that he understood what she was trying to do.

Chuck took a quick breath and took a step closer to her as he faced the monitors again. "Yes, General, Director. I understand."

As he spoke, he took his hand from behind his back and brought it to his side, brushing against hers. She let the back of her hand press lightly against his, keeping it there as they finished the briefing.

XXX

Sarah sipped from a travel mug of coffee as she drove over to Ellie Bartowski's apartment in Echo Park. Today was the first dress fitting for members of the wedding party, so she was on her way to meet Ellie and the other bridesmaids. She was slightly nervous at the prospect of spending a day with a group of women, especially when she only knew Ellie. And although no red flags had been raised when she had run each woman's name through a basic background search, that didn't mean she knew what kind of situation she was going to be in.

But she had to attend this fitting, even though she'd much rather be trying to talk to Chuck. But he was in Irvine, looking for a furnished apartment that he could move into quickly before starting his undercover assignment. So here she was, preparing to spend a day surrounded by women like Ellie. Smart, pretty, successful. Women who knew how to have friends, how to talk to their boyfriends.

She took a deep breath as she pulled into the parking lot behind Ellie's complex. She was being ridiculous, she knew, but she wanted to fit in. To not be the outsider she felt like she was.

Reaching up, Sarah flipped down the visor, looking at herself in the mirror. She brushed away a speck of mascara from her cheek, then stared into her eyes for a long moment. Just how had she ended up here? She wasn't sure, but she knew it was a long journey from the girl with frizzy hair and braces, the girl who played the violin and felt nervous when she walked the halls of her high school. On the outside, she wasn't that girl anymore. But she wasn't quite sure that she'd left that girl behind as she became this woman.

And she had to hurry if she wasn't going to be late. Stepping out of her Porsche, Sarah hitched up her purse and walked to Ellie's front door. She lifted her fist to knock, hearing laughter inside the apartment.

The door was opened by Ellie, whose smile grew even wider and brighter at the sight of her. "Sarah! You're here!" She leaned in, wrapping her arms around Sarah's shoulders in a loose hug.

"Hi, Ellie," Sarah said, taking a moment before responding to Ellie's enthusiasm by patting the older woman's shoulders.

Ellie pulled back and grinned. "You're the last one here. Let me introduce you to everyone, then we'll head over to the bridal salon." She pulled Sarah into the apartment, walking around and rattling off names and details about the other women. Since Sarah had missed the initial session when everyone had picked out their dresses, this was the first time she had met the female members of the wedding party.

With her spy training, it was easy enough for her to remember everyone's name and job. That meant she could just watch Ellie interact with her friends, how she smiled and laughed and seemed so comfortable. She was a lot like Chuck in that way. They weren't just peas in a pod; they depended on each other. Sarah tilted her head, an idea occurring to her. Ellie was one of the people who knew Chuck best. Perhaps Sarah might talk to her . . .

The thought of opening herself up to someone she barely knew gave Sarah a momentary shiver. Ellie paused mid-sentence. "Sarah, are you all right?"

Sarah managed a small smile. "Yeah, yeah, I'm fine. Just felt a draft for a moment, I guess." She glanced at her watch. "Don't we need to get going?"

Ellie grinned. "Yes, as my future mother-in-law would tell us, time to stop gossiping, ladies." Amid the laughs of the women, Ellie started arranging everyone into carpools. Then she turned to Sarah. "Chuck told me you have a Porsche and I've always wanted to ride in one. Do you mind driving me?" She gave Sarah a winsome, pleading look.

She couldn't help laughing. Now she could see where Chuck learned how to do that look. "No, I don't mind."

By the time Sarah had started her car, Ellie had turned to face her. "I had another reason for asking if you'd drive me, Sarah."

Reflexively, she gripped the steering wheel a bit harder. "You did?" she asked, glancing over at Ellie.

Chuck's sister nodded. "Chuck and I talked recently and he mentioned that you two are having problems." Ellie's voice was soft, serious yet sympathetic.

It took Sarah a few moments to get her thoughts in order. In a lot of ways, Ellie was the kind of woman that Sarah could be. Someone who could talk about her feelings, someone who was more than just her job. She'd been trying to figure this out on her own, to learn about herself without anyone seeing the process. But the problems with Chuck, her own insecurity, they were standing in her way. And here was Ellie, offering to help her.

"It's . . . it's not easy for me to talk about myself," Sarah said slowly.

"Chuck mentioned that, too. And I know I'm his sister, but if you wanted to talk, I'm happy to listen."

"You are?" Sarah asked, feeling a bit surprised. "Aren't you on Chuck's side?"

Ellie chuckled. "Yeah, always. But that means helping him get what he wants, even if it means going behind his back."

"Oh," Sarah said, looking back at the road as she took that in. She drove in silence for a few moments, fighting for the right words. "Chuck and I have been going through a rough patch for a while now."

"What caused it?" Ellie asked, her voice neutral.

Sarah licked her lips. "I . . . I'm not really sure."

Ellie let out a soft snort. "Try again."

"What?" Sarah asked, looking over at Ellie in surprise at her reaction.

"C'mon, Sarah. If these problems have been going on for this long, and with how you stay inside your own head, then you know exactly what caused it."

She shifted in her seat a little, feeling vulnerable. How could she explain all the possible answers to Ellie's question? It'd mean opening up about not just her present, but her past, too. That was an uncomfortable proposition.

But it was something she'd have to get more comfortable with, if she was going to open up to Chuck or make real friendships. She had to take a risk. When it came to her job, she was fearless, but even after all she had learned, she wasn't nearly so brave when it came to her personal life.

The traffic on the road ahead of them had come to a near-stop. From the looks of it, they were going to be here for a while. And she couldn't sit here in silence, dodging Ellie's questions. Not if Sarah wanted to learn from her and get her help.

Sarah took a deep breath. "It's hard to explain. But . . . but I'm good at my job. Really good. It always makes sense, I know the rules. So until I met Chuck, I was all about work."

Ellie nodded. "That's common with doctors. You forget that you're a person as well as a doctor."

"Yeah, something like that," Sarah agreed. "Even before that, the way I grew up-I didn't do a lot of talking about myself. I got used to just watching, keeping my thoughts to myself. But now, with Chuck . . . I want to talk, but I just can't find the way to start."

"He understands that, you know," Ellie said quietly. "That you're reserved, that talking about your past is tough."

"I know he does," Sarah said. "He's so understanding."

Out of the corner of her eye, she could tell Ellie was looking at her. "Is that a bad thing?" Ellie asked, sounding curious and confused.

"No, of course not. It's not bad at all." Sarah looked at the traffic, leaning forward and trying to see what was causing the backup. "It's just intimidating," she said absent-mindedly.

"Intimidating?" Ellie let out a soft laugh. "Chuck Bartowski, intimidating. I'm afraid you're going to have to explain that one."

Her slip of the tongue made Sarah wince. Intimidating wasn't exactly the right word, but either way, now she had to explain things to Chuck's sister.

"What I mean is . . . Chuck is a wonderful guy. He's smart, handsome, funny, kind. He wouldn't agree with me, but any woman would be lucky to date him."

"Chuck's never really seen his worth, that's true. Although he's definitely more confident now than I've ever seen him, thanks to you."

Sarah looked down at the steering wheel. "Is it really thanks to me?" she asked quietly.

"What? Of course it's thanks to you, Sarah," Ellie said, her voice incredulous. "At least part of it, I mean. Chuck thinks you're amazing, so having you in his life has given him a big boost."

She swallowed. "But I'm not that amazing. I mean, I have all these issues and I've been trying to work on them, but it's really hard to break habits that you've had most of your life. I'm not looking to make excuses for myself. I just don't know how much I'm bringing to this relationship."

The words she spoke had a note of self-pity in them, even surprising Sarah. Was that part of the problem? Did she doubt her worth, at least when it came to being a woman and a girlfriend? She didn't think that was the issue, but something had made her express whether she had enough going for herself. She had no hesitation in saying that she was an excellent spy, but as a woman she was still learning.

"That is just ridiculous, Sarah," Ellie said, reaching out and resting a hand on Sarah's shoulder. "Believe me, that is a thought that's never crossed Chuck's mind. And you shouldn't be worrying about it."

"But I have been. Without even realizing it," Sarah said, ignoring the traffic and turning to look at Ellie. "I've felt insecure about just being me with Chuck, because deep down I felt that when I'm not at work, I'm not that interesting. Not like how Chuck is."

Horns honking made Sarah realize that the cars ahead of them had started moving, so she quickly pressed her foot down on the gas pedal. Her mind was moving even quicker than the car.

All her work to figure out what she was interested in, what she liked-she had known that she wanted to have things to talk to Chuck about. Things that they could share and discuss. The fact that she hadn't found anything had made her feel like a failure, like an incomplete person. And so she'd pulled back from Chuck, letting the small problems between them grow bigger and harder to deal with.

But the soul-searching was about more than just her relationship with Chuck. She wanted to become well-rounded. She wanted to be more than Sarah Walker, spy. She knew she liked pink and blueberries, but she wanted to have outside interests and things she liked to do. There was so much she could learn and do and enjoy and the CIA had nothing to do with that. It was just for herself.

"Sarah?" Ellie's voice broke the silence inside the car. "Are you okay? You've been really quiet."

"Yeah . . . yeah, I am," Sarah said. She looked over at Ellie and smiled a little. "I think I just realized something really important."

Ellie smiled at her. "That's good news. For both of us-I had this great speech planned, about how you can never go too far, never do too much for someone. But it's always better when someone figures something out for themselves, instead of having someone hand you a gift-wrapped epiphany."

Sarah laughed. "That sounds like Chuck."

"What can I say? He's rubbed off on me over the years," Ellie said, grinning.

Everything felt different now. She knew why she had started to pull away from Chuck, which meant she could figure out a way to fix things. And it would start tonight, by finding time to really talk to him. To let him see the insecurity she'd just discovered and ask for his help in fighting it.

The thought of doing that made her feel the same way when she'd first been recruited. When she'd started her training, feeling awkward and unsure, certain that Director Graham was going to realize what a mistake he'd made. But she'd taken those feelings and used them to become one of the best. She could do the same thing when it came to her relationship and to herself. She could do this.

She looked over at Ellie and smiled. "So tell me about this bridesmaid dress. You promised that I'd look pretty."

"That was before Honey got involved," Ellie said with a groan.

"Honey? Tell me more," Sarah asked as she pulled into the salon, looking forward to hearing what Ellie had to say.

XXX

It was late afternoon by the time Sarah returned to her apartment. She dropped down onto her couch as she reviewed the day. The dress fitting had gone better than she had expected: although the dress wasn't to her taste, she knew that the close-fitting dress in pale pink flattered her. She couldn't wait to see Chuck's reaction to it.

After the fitting had finished, Ellie had invited everyone out to lunch. To Sarah's surprise, it had been a lot of fun. The other bridesmaids were all nice to her and Sarah had enjoyed learning more about each of them. Two of them worked with Ellie while the third was Ellie's best friend from high school. All three women were interested in learning how she had met Ellie and when they learned it was through Chuck, they all talked about how adorable Chuck was. Sarah had found herself agreeing with them wholeheartedly, drawing a round of laughter.

She'd never had experiences like this: having lunch together with a group of women, swapping stories and getting to know each other. There weren't that many women in the CIA and Sarah had never really reached out to anyone. She had thought it would be too hard to maintain a friendship with another female agent and she was too focused on her career.

Now, though . . . she wanted friends. She wanted a good relationship with Chuck. And it was time to get started on that.

Pulling her purse over, she tugged her cell phone out and flipped it open. She hit the saved contact for Chuck and waited for him to pick up, feeling impatient and nervous.

"Hello?"

"Hi, Chuck," she said, shifting on the couch to pull her legs underneath her. "How's the apartment hunting going?"

"Okay," he said, his voice a bit tired. "I found a place a little while ago. I'm on my way back to pack up and then I'll drive back to the new place to get some sleep."

"That's good that you found something." Sarah paused, debating whether she should ask him to come over. He'd had a long day and he still had to drive back to Irvine. But she hoped that he'd like to see her, especially if they could talk a little.

"Have you had dinner yet? I could order a pizza . . ." She held her breath, waiting for his answer.

"Really? You wanna see me?" The way he slurred his words confirmed just how tired he was, but there seemed to be a spark in his voice now.

"Yeah, I do. I want to tell you how the dress fitting went. And besides, you should eat and rest a little before you get back in the car," Sarah said, feeling awkward. She was unused to being so obvious in her attempts to take care of Chuck. With all her spy training, it was easy to keep those attempts under the radar. But she didn't want to hide that from Chuck now. After all, it was the kind of thing a girlfriend would do.

The moment she waited for his answer seemed endless. Once he spoke, she felt a wave of relief. "I'd love that, Sarah."

She felt a huge smile bloom on her face. "Okay, then. How long until you're back here?"

"I'm probably about forty minutes out. Traffic's not too bad."

"Then I'll see you in about forty minutes," Sarah said, her face starting to hurt a little from the smiling. "You want Hawaiian pizza, right?"

"Yes, I do," Chuck said with a laugh. "See you soon, Sarah."

"Bye, Chuck," she said softly before hanging up the phone. She jumped up, feeling a surge of energy. She changed her top and shook her hair out of its ponytail. After she called in the pizza order, she cleaned up the apartment a little, not that it really needed it. But she needed to do something to keep herself from getting too nervous.

The pizza delivery arrived just before she was going to be like Chuck and start cleaning already-clean dishes. She was closing the door when she heard Chuck's voice. "Hold on!" He jogged up to her and smiled at her. "For once, I've got good timing."

Sarah laughed a little. "I think you're underselling yourself."

Chuck gave her a lazy smile, his eyes bright. He stepped into the apartment and closed the door behind him, gazing down at her. Sarah gripped the pizza box, her smile fading a little as she sensed the mood changing. She took a deep breath. "Why don't you take a seat?"

Without waiting for Chuck's answer, she walked over and set the pizza down on the coffee table in front of the sofa. "I've got water, soda, beer to drink . . ."

"I'll take a soda-I need the caffeine," Chuck said, sprawling a little on the sofa, not unlike how she had when she had arrived home earlier. That thought made her smile and nod at Chuck before she went into the kitchen.

She gave herself a moment to close her eyes and remember that as hard as it was, she wanted to fix her relationship with Chuck. It was going to be a difficult, slightly scary process to open herself up to him, but she trusted him. She cared about him too much to let him go.

Grabbing two cans of soda and a handful of napkins, she walked back into the living room. "What's your new place like?" she asked as she sat down and opened the pizza box.

"It's just a furnished studio-nothing fancy," Chuck said, cracking open his soda and taking a piece of pizza at the same time. "But it'll work with the legend I've created and it's near one of the dead-drop locations. I don't think I'll attract any attention."

Sarah nodded as she took a small bite of pizza. "That's good."

"Tell me how the dress fitting went. I know Ellie was a bit nervous about whether you'd like the dress," Chuck said after he finished inhaling his first slice of pizza.

"From what I can tell, no one likes the dress they have to wear as a bridesmaid," Sarah said. "But it's not that bad." She shared some details of the day with Chuck. "I had a lot of fun," she concluded.

Chuck smiled at her softly. "That's great, Sarah."

The effect of his smile on her was just . . . sometimes it made her dizzy. It made her push past her fears. "I've never really had many friends. It was nice to feel like I did for a little while."

He gazed at her, ignoring the second piece of pizza he had been eating. "Yeah?" he asked, his voice soft and curious.

She nodded. "I told you how I moved around a lot growing up. That made learning how to make friends hard. But Ellie's been so nice to me, inviting me to be part of her wedding, setting up coffee dates . . . it's nice." .

"I'm really glad you and Ellie are becoming friends, Sarah," Chuck said, putting down his pizza and moving a bit closer to her on the sofa. "I have to admit, I hoped you two might hit it off. Because I had noticed that you didn't really seem to have any friends, you didn't talk about anyone, so . . ." He let his voice trail off, then shrugged.

It was a little embarrassing for your boyfriend to help you make a friend. But she also felt touched that he wanted her to be happy, beyond what he could do for her.

"I-I hope Ellie and I can become good friends," Sarah said slowly, feeling a bit shy. "Because that's part of what I want in my life."

Chuck smiled at her, all his attention focused on her. He was listening so closely to her, not interrupting or making it about him. Why had she put this off for so long? How could she have gotten so confused by her own emotions and worries to think that Chuck wouldn't react just like this if she talked to him about herself?

She gave him a small smile and finished the rest of her slice, wanting to take a moment to get settled. Chuck also finished his pizza and sipped his soda. He shifted on the sofa, turning to look at her.

"Sarah? Can I-can I ask you something?"

His voice sounded uncertain, like he wasn't sure if she'd say yes. She gazed at him, then smiled, trying to encourage him.

"Yeah, Chuck?"

He opened his mouth, only for the notes of a upbeat song to fill the apartment. Chuck quickly fumbled his phone out of his pocket, flipping it open and cutting off the song. "Hello? Hey, Morgan." He glanced at her, mouthing "One minute," as he listened to Morgan.

Sarah picked up her soda and sipped it, listening to Chuck's end of the conversation.

"It's an emergency? You mean that?" Chuck sighed. "Of course I'm not questioning you-of course I know what a Suzie situation means, but neither of us are eight years old."

He winced and even Sarah could hear Morgan's high-pitched voice from where she was.

"Okay, okay, buddy," Chuck said. "I'll come over, but I really only have an hour-I'm going out of town on a business trip and I need time to pack. Okay?" Morgan must have found that acceptable, because Chuck said goodbye and hung up the phone with a sigh.

"Is Morgan okay?" Sarah asked, feeling a bit of concern for Chuck's best friend, but also a sense of frustration at this opportunity slipping away. Admittedly, there was no way they could come close to solving all their problems tonight, but with Chuck leaving on his undercover assignment their progress was now halted for who knew how long.

"Yeah, he's going to be okay, but he thinks he needs my help. So I'm gonna go pack and then head over to Morgan's place before I go to Irvine." Chuck looked at Sarah for a long moment. "I'm sorry I can't stay longer."

She gave him a small smile. "It's okay."

He gazed at her, then nodded and smiled a little. "So I guess things are going to be quiet for you and Casey while I'm gone." He stood up, heading towards the door slowly. Sarah got up and followed him.

"Oh, yeah, I'll be bored silly," she said with her tongue in her cheek.

Chuck laughed. "Thanks for the pizza." He looked at her, then ran a hand through his hair. "I guess I'll see you when I see you, huh?"

She nodded. "Yeah." She gazed at him for a moment, then leaned in and lightly kissed his cheek. "Be careful. You'll do great."

His ears had gone red by the time she pulled back. She could see him swallow before he spoke. "I will. You, too." He smiled at her, then opened the door and left, giving her a long look as he pulled the door shut behind him.

Sarah leaned back against the door. It'd been so long since she had kissed Chuck. Just that cheek kiss had made her melt. Combined with opening up to him, her nerves felt a little frayed. Maybe it was for the best that he had to go, so she could have some time to get back on balance.

But she doubted that she'd stay even for long, with Chuck undercover and without any contact with her. She'd have to hope for the best while he was gone.

End, Chapter 10


	11. Chapter 11

"Charles? How's that coding going?"

Chuck turned around in his desk chair at the sound of his supervisor's voice. "Hey, Alex. I should be done in about an hour, I think. Just want to go through the code, make sure it's nice and lean."

Alex, only a few years older than Chuck but who had been working for Roark Instruments for six years, laughed. "Charles, how many times have I told you, you should use the code validator. Saves you a ton of time."

"Sorry, Alex. I'm all about doing my own work." Chuck tried to smile and make a joke out of his insistence on code-checking. Even at Stanford, he'd drawn scorn from his fellow students because he believed in validating your code by reading it yourself.

Alex adjusted the scarf that was draped around his neck. "All right, Charles, but you should really get over this whole paranoid 'the computer is your enemy' mindset. That doesn't really fly here."

He smiled tightly. "I'll keep that in mind."

His supervisor gave him a jaunty salute and left him alone in his cubicle. Chuck turned back to his computer and cracked his fingers before reading through the code that was earmarked for the next version of RIOS.

It had been a week and a half since he had started working at Roark Instruments. If he hadn't been recruited by the CIA, this was how his life might have turned out: working for a software company, hanging out with the guys from work, having more money than he could ever spend. This was the kind of job he spent so many years working towards: first high school, then college. He'd spent hours and hours studying, working harder than anyone else. He did it all so that one day, he could have a job like this.

He was bored out of his mind.

This might have been what he once wanted to do. But the longer he worked at RI, he was more and more grateful that he got recruited, that he said yes to the CIA, that he was doing something really important.

It might just be his knowledge of Roark Instruments affecting his impression of this job. After all, no matter what he was doing he wouldn't want to be working for a potential terrorist. Or it could be the company's culture wasn't for him. But he hadn't realized how much he wouldn't like working at a place like this.

Some of the guys were friendly and welcoming. But most of his co-workers acted like their guns never jammed during Call of Duty raids. They were extreme fanboys, fanatical about having the right gadgets and mocking anyone who didn't agree with them. Chuck had seen that first-hand, when he'd expressed a nostalgic love for the Nintendo GameCube during a heated argument about the XBox versus the PlayStation 2.

So working at Roark wasn't a lot of fun. But he wasn't there to create software. He was there to determine if Fulcrum had worked with Roark Instruments or Ted Roark himself to create their Intersect.

As he read through the code, tweaking it here and there to make it more efficient, he considered what he had learned so far. Being on the inside gave him a few advantages, especially in a company where there was so little security. It wasn't strange to see other employees wandering through different parts of the building, setting up their computers in empty cubicles or journeying to a specific coffeepot or vending machine. Very little of the campus had limited access for employees, so most people didn't even bother to wear their ID badges. Once you were through the security checkpoint at the entrance, you were pretty much home free.

That was the good news. The bad news was anything off-limits was really off-limits. From his initial investigation, the security badges would be very hard to override. And since most employees set their own schedules, there were always people around, eliminating the chance to slip in when the building was empty.

But he was getting ahead of himself. For right now, it was more important to focus on doing his job while not attracting too much attention to himself. He still had a lot to learn about Roark Instruments, not to mention Ted Roark himself.

Chuck was hoping to meet Ted Roark, to see if he was the kind of man to help a terrorist organization. So far, Chuck hadn't met him, although he'd tried to encounter Roark by accident. It should be easy, thanks to Roark's eccentric desire to have no schedule and wander through the company, talking to employees about what they were working on. Chuck still wasn't sure how he would approach him, beyond being a star-struck employee. Since Chuck was there under his Charles Carmichael alias, he couldn't make use of his family connection to Roark. Although given his father's accusations, he wasn't sure what would happen if he introduced himself to Ted Roark as Stephen Bartowski's son.

Part of him wished he had taken the time before this mission to talk some more to his father about his apparent nemesis, find out what Stephen might know. But that would have meant telling both Stephen and Ellie about his "new" job and he was worried about their reactions.

He sighed and rolled his shoulders. He only had a half-hour before he had to submit his code, so he needed to buckle down and get the job done-in more ways than one.

XXX

Chuck yawned as he opened the door to his studio, flipping on the light switches. It had been over a year since he had kept programmer hours: barely sleeping and using Red Bull and sugar to stay awake. His body was having a hard time adjusting to that. But to keep up his cover, he had to do his best to get by on little sleep. Fortunately, he had a few tricks up his sleeves, ones that let him maintain his position among his coworkers.

He shook his head as he started making himself some dinner. In the eighteen months since he had been recruited by the CIA, he really had changed more than he realized. This job was making him see that. It was funny to learn that all his insecurities about being a spy, about how good he was, were fading away the longer he worked at Roark Instruments.

And with those worries becoming insignificant, he was trying to figure out how and why he'd nearly wrecked his relationship with Sarah.

In those crazy days leading up to this assignment, he'd been amazed at how Sarah had started to open up. He could see how hard she was working for them. And it wasn't just about the talking-when Graham and Beckman had dropped the bomb about the Intersect upgrade, he could tell that Sarah was ready to protest, to argue that he wasn't ready. But she had held back and let him be the one to complain.

Not only did it make him feel more empowered, more in control of what the CIA wanted to do to him, it gave him a huge boost of confidence. Because Sarah had really heard him when he had pointed out her double standard. She'd heard him and yeah, she'd gotten a bit mad, but not so much that she wasn't able to listen and reconsider how she had been acting. And then she had immediately shown him that she was going to change, by not saying how worried she was about the Intersect upgrade in front of their superiors.

There was plenty to worry about, Chuck knew. Picking up his dinner and sitting at the breakfast bar, he ate slowly as he considered the computer in his brain. He'd done his best not to dwell on the Intersect, but he was starting to wonder if something was wrong. He'd had a lot fewer flashes ever since he had gotten the Fulcrum Intersect. And when he did flash, he was so paranoid about the data that the team lost any advantage they might have had, thanks to all the cross-checking that had to be done.

Ever since he had agreed to take on the Intersect, Chuck had known it was permanent. He'd be glad to get the Fulcrum version out of his head-at least, he was going to make sure it got removed when he went in for the Intersect 2.0. But he was still concerned with the lack of information he had. It had been nearly a year that he'd had the Intersect and he'd gone through massive amounts of testing in that time, doing whatever the scientists asked of him. But they still thought of him as a guinea pig. He might not have much of a neuroscience background, but he'd learned enough by now that he thought he should have more say in the process. Getting the CIA to see that wouldn't be easy, but when he went to D.C. for the upgrade he was going to make his feelings clear.

Chuck took a deep breath as he finished his dinner. He felt confident that he could get these work problems ironed out, one way or another. But right now, he was more worried about figuring out his issues with Sarah.

He grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge and flopped down on the couch, stretching his legs out. Picking up the TV remote, he started flipping idly through the channels as he thought back over the weeks since his vacation with Sarah.

How had things gotten so complicated? He'd always been a chatterbox, so when did he stop talking to Sarah? And why did this happen in the first place? Sarah had clearly figured out something on her end, something that motivated her to get over her natural reserve in order to talk to him. But he didn't know what his problem was.

Taking a long swallow from his water bottle, Chuck considered what he would have done differently if he had the chance. Talking to Sarah right away after she revealed the connection between Perseus and Orion was one. And . . . and as much as he loved Morgan, as much as his friend mattered to him, there had been two different times that he'd chosen Morgan at the expense of Sarah. First when he had just arrived in LA from Rome and he'd let Morgan come to dinner with them and then the night before he left for this assignment.

Chuck frowned. Just why did he do that? Morgan was his best friend. If Chuck needed to spend time with Sarah, Morgan would understand. Okay, he'd gotten a little jealous of Jill, but that was years ago. And Morgan had told Chuck that his dislike of Jill was more about Chuck dating someone who wasn't right for him. That certainly wasn't the case here: Morgan had been full of compliments about Sarah from the moment he met her and time hadn't changed that. What was it he had said to Chuck that day in the Buy More? " _I think you need to snap up Sarah before it's too late._ "

He felt his mouth go dry. Snap up Sarah . . .

It was like a ton of bricks had fallen on him. Ellie, Morgan, everyone could see that he and Sarah were perfect together. So why was he so scared of talking to her?

The people he cared about meant the world to him. Losing his parents had almost broken him. It had taken therapy and a lot of support from Ellie and Morgan to get through that. Bryce vanishing on him still hurt even to this day. He knew that he could depend on Ellie and Morgan-he knew they would never leave him. Although he was trying with his dad, now that he was back, Chuck knew that it would be a long, long time before he would be able to rely on Stephen. But Sarah . . .

Being distant, like how he'd been with Sarah, wasn't like him. When Jill had started slipping away, he had clung even harder to her. With Sarah, he hadn't even tried. He'd held back for the first time in his life. Why had he done that?

Chuck closed his eyes and concentrated. Slowly, an answer came to him, one that made his eyes fly open in shock as he realized why he'd been such a fool.

Deep down, he was scared she wasn't ready for more. That she didn't want to be committed to him. If their relationship didn't work out, she'd probably leave. And if that happened, he didn't know how he could pick up the pieces.

As long as he didn't ask Sarah what she wanted, didn't talk about their relationship, he could exist in some fantasyland where everything was okay. Even though it wasn't. Even though it had all been slipping away.

Suddenly, so many things made more sense. Why he had let Morgan be the excuse to not spend time with Sarah. Why he hadn't pushed her, even in a gentle way, to talk more about her past and her feelings. Why he'd felt inadequate when she objected to him going on dangerous missions, why he thought she hadn't seen him as a real spy.

Sarah knew that things had to change, so she had given him openings in the days leading up to his leaving. While he had been a coward. Hiding away, ignoring their issues so he wouldn't have to face the possibility of getting hurt. He'd done his best imitation of an ostrich, sticking his head in the sand until his relationship nearly destructed.

He'd finally realized how he'd gone wrong with Sarah. And he wasn't going to let this epiphany go to waste.

Chuck jumped to his feet, feeling nervous energy flow through him. He started pacing, trying to figure out what to do next. Now that he knew what was the cause of his actions, how could he fix them? He was stuck working at Roark Instruments until he could find a link between Fulcrum and Roark-unless he wanted to break cover and drive to LA right now . . .

Regretfully, Chuck sighed and ran his hands through his hair. He couldn't risk the assignment like that. And what would he say if he showed up on Sarah's doorstep like that? No, he needed some time to come up with what to say and how to say it.

Right now, he needed a two-part plan. Part one was to pick up the pace on his investigation at Roark Instruments. It might be safer for him if he took the slow approach, building a case over several weeks, but he knew that the CIA and NSA wanted to eliminate Fulcrum as soon as possible. And if moving faster meant finishing the job sooner, even if it increased the risk, he was willing to take that risk.

The second part was determining just how to communicate with Sarah. He would probably start off with apologizing, then explaining what he'd realized about himself. But he felt like there was more he could be doing to prepare for this conversation. There had to be questions that every couple should ask each other, wasn't there? Especially if the couple were getting more serious in their relationship, like he hoped he and Sarah would be.

He paced for another moment, his steps slowing as he realized what he needed. This was a little embarrassing, but it was time to get over feeling embarrassed or holding back. He yanked his cell phone out of the pocket of his jeans. Giving thanks that he'd gotten the security nearly hack-proof, he quickly punched in the code for the third contact in his phone.

"Morgan? Hey, buddy. I can't talk long, but I have a favor to ask."

XXX

Putting on a final burst of speed, Chuck reached the mile marker on the jogging path just as his watch beeped, indicating he had completed his run within the time he had set. He walked slowly, resting his hands on his hips as he caught his breath, before taking a long swallow from his water bottle.

He had come to a nearby park for a run, hoping to burn off some of the extra calories he had taken in since he had started working at Roark Instruments. As a nerd, he was supposed to be anti-exercise, but as a CIA agent he had to stay in shape. Even after only three weeks, he was starting to see his muscle definition fade a little, which was humbling given how hard he'd worked on the weight machines and with free weights to achieve that. Cardio would have to be enough until he finished up this assignment, though.

There was another reason he had come to the park, though. A secluded trash can was one of the dead drop locations he used. It was old-school, but it was a technique that was still surprisingly effective even in the modern age. It had been a couple of days since he had checked this drop and he was expecting a package. He also had information to pass along to Sarah and Casey.

Over the last week, with his newfound resolve to finish this mission as quickly as possible, he'd managed to uncover some interesting leads. He had definitely acquired evidence that the connection was between Fulcrum and Ted Roark himself. Of course, that made getting definitive proof more tricky, since Roark was fanatical about his privacy and security. But passing along this intel would give the CIA and NSA something to work with.

Chuck finished the water in his bottle, then casually pulled a USB drive from his pocket and slid it into the bottle. He walked over to the trash can and tossed in the bottle as he pulled out a package wrapped in a black-and-red plastic bag. He tucked the package into the back of his shorts, pulling his t-shirt over to hide it, then started heading towards his car at a slow jog.

From the size of the package, he knew that Morgan had come through for him. So Chuck planned to order some Chinese and continue working on his plan to heal his relationship with Sarah.

It was a good thing he never had company at his studio, because it had been totally taken over by Project Happy Ending. Thanks to his visit to a local office-supply store, he now had a whiteboard and two bulletin boards where he was organizing his thoughts and ideas, complete with index cards, multi-colored markers, and string. During the previous week, he had compiled all the information he knew about Sarah and done his best to determine what issues he should be prepared for when they started talking. He didn't want to hit any hot buttons with her and get their conversation off-track. He was hoping that the package from Morgan would be the final piece of the puzzle, giving him the words he needed to make this plan happen.

Even though he wanted to run to his car and drive back immediately, Chuck made himself keep up the slow pace. Once he reached the beat-up Honda that the CIA had provided for this mission, he carefully slid the package out from behind his back and slipped it under his seat. Then he drove to what had become his local Chinese place, picking up orange chicken and some dumplings. Once he had his food, he followed his normal pattern and headed back to his apartment.

He sat down at the breakfast bar, setting the bag of Chinese down to the side as he started unwrapping the plastic-covered package from the team. There was just two items: a note from Sarah and a book wrapped in brown paper. He read the note first.

_Chuck:_

_Morgan asked me to send this to you. He said you called him and asked him to get it. He also said I shouldn't look at it. I haven't, so your secret is safe-for now._

There was a note of humor so far, Chuck imagined. Or at least he hoped he wasn't imagining it.

_No news to report about the intel you sent last time, but Casey and I have been researching the individual in question. It seems that there might be a connection. I'm going to send the details to your email account._

According to their prearranged code, a message sent to Chuck's email account meant that in two days, a CD would be left inside a reference book at the Orange County Library branch in Irvine's Heritage Park.

_Hope you're all right. Be careful and go easy on the Red Bull._

_Sarah_

He chuckled softly, re-reading the last two sentences. She knew him so well. More than he realized, he suspected.

It was for her that he was getting ready to do something very embarrassing. He looked at the paper-wrapped package and sighed softly, then picked it up and tore off the wrapper, revealing the lurid cover of _To Do Before I Do_. It was even worse than he remembered it being and he felt himself flush as he looked at the book.

For most of his life, he had considered himself a good communicator. Someone who could explain himself, who was in touch with his feelings and willing to wear his heart on his sleeve. But his experiences with Sarah had proved that even someone like him could clam up. And he didn't want that to happen again.

Using a book like this made him feel silly, but at this point the people he'd normally rely on weren't available. He'd already taken a big risk by contacting Morgan and he wasn't going to put his friend in further jeopardy. By the same reasoning, he couldn't call Ellie. That left only Casey, and the thought of talking to John Casey, former Marine and current NSA agent, about his feelings for Sarah . . . well, that was a scary, scary thought.

At least he had that talk with Ellie to guide him, with her advice about getting past the honeymoon period. He knew that just reading the book wouldn't be enough; the hard part would be applying its advice. But he was ready to work hard. That conversation with Sarah over sizzling shrimp had reminded him just what he was missing out on-and what he could have again once they addressed it.

Pausing to get out his food, Chuck began reading as he ate. He skimmed through the first two chapters on communication and sharing, making a note to read them more thoroughly later. He'd taken a large mouthful of chicken when he came to chapter three-a mouthful he nearly choked on when he read the chapter title.

**Sexual Compatibility and Physical Intimacy**

Chuck felt his ears go red. He-he didn't really need to read this section, did he? He and Sarah, they-that department was fine. More than fine. When they had sex, things were good. At least, he thought they were good. Maybe they weren't . . . Oh, God, what if that was why she might not want a commitment with him: he sucked at making love.

He paused and took a deep breath. There was no need to revert to his teenage self at the thought of sex with Sarah. Just because it had been so long since they'd been close like that and now all he could think about was touching her . . . He shifted in his chair, trying to get himself under control. Sarah had never seemed unhappy about that aspect of their relationship. He'd read this chapter, along with the rest of the book, and learn how to talk about their sex life, because that's what adults did.

Swallowing, Chuck focused on eating the rest of his food before he looked at any more of the book. Once he'd eaten, he'd be able to really concentrate on the book. It would be worth it, if it helped him get Sarah back.

XXX

Doing his best to appear relaxed, Chuck walked through the halls of Roark Instruments' main building. Three days ago, he had reported his ID badge as missing, even though it really wasn't. But this report allowed him to work on cracking RI's security by hacking his original badge. Today he was going to test the badge and see how successful he had been. After doing some analysis, he'd picked a late Friday afternoon as the best time for the test, since many employees only worked a half-day on Fridays.

Rumor had it that off the northwest entrance was a lab complex where top-secret projects were being worked on. Chuck had already determined that his replacement badge, with his regular employee access, wouldn't let him into the lab area. So today he was going to see how far his hacked badge would get him.

As each day passed, he could feel the tension increasing. The information Sarah had sent to the library dead drop indicated that Roark seemed to realize he was being watched, so Chuck needed to be on his guard. Staying vigilant didn't come naturally to Chuck, but this situation was too important for him to make a careless mistake. He knew he was nearly there. If this badge worked, then he'd be ready for the final step: a raid to gather the final evidence against Ted Roark. And then he could get back to his real life, with Sarah, and find a way to become a real couple again.

His hands felt clammy as he approached the door that lead to the labs. Pausing a moment to rub them against his jeans, Chuck made himself focus on staying calm and acting as normal as possible. Reaching a hand into his back pocket, he pulled out the hacked badge and slid it through the card reader.

Nothing happened for a long moment, then there was a beep and the voice of Ted Roark said, "Access granted. Have an excellent day."

Chuck felt the beginning of a wide grin spread on his face as he pulled the door open and stepped into a long, white hallway, with corridors branching off at different junctions. He'd managed to beat the RI security, so now he'd just take a short walk before doubling back and leaving through the same door he'd come in through.

He had only taken a few steps when a large group of people entered the hallway from one of those junction points, a group that was mostly business people in suits, carrying briefcases. But the man at the center of the group was tall, in his late 60s, and wearing a baseball cap and a brightly-printed Hawaiian shirt.

It was Ted Roark.

His blood ran cold as he cursed his luck. Of course he would stumble onto the very person he was investigating, right after he had unlawfully gained access to part of the building he shouldn't be in. He'd have to think fast to make sure this didn't blow up in his face.

"Let me tell you about this new idea I got when I opened a fortune cookie the other night-you all know plenty about that, am I right?" Ted Roark laughed, nudging the man on his left who happened to be Asian. The man tittered nervously, looking uncomfortable. Chuck understood how he felt.

As he drew close to Ted Roark and the rest of the group, Chuck swallowed, then dramatically stumbled, throwing himself into Roark's path.

"Oh, God," Chuck said, putting as much mortification as possible into his voice, something that wasn't very hard. "I'm-Mr. Roark, I'm so sorry-um, sorry," he said, looking at the group surrounding Roark. "I'm normally only a little clumsy, not this level of clumsy."

"No worries, son," Roark said, holding his hand out. "You must be new, or maybe I'm just getting forgetful in my old age."

"No, no, I'm new!" Chuck said, grasping Roark's hand in both of his and pumping it energetically. "Charles Carmichael, Mr. Roark, and it's a real thrill to be working for you."

"I'm sure it is," Roark said, pulling his hand out of Chuck's grip. "I'm sure you won't be washing your hands ever again." He laughed again and the others laughed after a moment.

Chuck put on his goofiest grin. "Yes, sir."

"Now you know we don't go for any of that 'sir' nonsense here," Roark said. He looked at the group of people with him, then pointed to a young woman. "Except for her-you call her 'sir'."

He laughed enthusiastically. "Yes, okay." Chuck started to back away. "I'll get back to work now-I'll make you proud of me, Mr. Roark!"

"You do that," Roark said as he turned back to his guests.

It took all of Chuck's courage and skill to not break out into a dead run, in order to put as much distance between himself and Ted Roark as possible. Somehow, he managed to keep his pace to a fast walk until he'd stepped back through the security door. Only then did he let out the sigh of relief he had been holding in.

That was close. He had been lucky, but at least he had gotten through the conversation without acting differently from any other fanboy that Ted Roark came in contact with every day. Hopefully, he hadn't stood out enough for Roark to remember him.

And he knew that he'd cracked the security encryption on the ID badges. As soon as he was home tonight, he could prepare a message for Sarah and Casey, alerting them to his plans.

In a few days, this could all be over and he could be with Sarah.

XXX

Although he wished to get out of Roark Instruments as soon as possible, Chuck made himself go back to his cubicle and work for forty-five minutes. He was nearly at the end of the podrace-now wasn't the time to flame out.

Chuck wrinkled his nose. A _Phantom Menace_ reference was the best he could come up with? That was a bit troubling. Clearly, it was time for him to go home and contact Sarah and Casey.

Standing up, he stretched before turning off his computer monitor and picking up his messenger bag. He joined the small trickle of employees who were exiting the building and heading towards their cars, feeling some security in being part of the crowd. But he didn't feel truly safe until he was in his car and on his way back to his studio.

Tapping his fingers against the steering wheel, Chuck tried to keep himself calm. The thought that by the end of the weekend he might be done at Roark was overwhelming. He was ready to move on and get back to his real job. And he was ready to see Sarah. To tell her everything that he'd realized over the last few weeks, to apologize for what he had done wrong. And to show her how much he loved her.

As he pulled into his parking space at his building, he took a deep breath. He wasn't going to let go of Sarah, not before he had given her everything he had. For the last few months, he'd let his fears and his doubts nearly split them up. But like he had once told her, he learned from his mistakes. And he was never again going to make the mistake of holding back for fear of what might happen.

There was still a lot of work to be done, though. Chuck reviewed the plans for the Roark operation as he hurried up the stairs to his apartment, eager to get to his computer and send a message to Sarah and Casey. They'd agreed it was too risky for Chuck to go in by himself for any major action at Roark Instruments, so Chuck was to contact them when it was time.

Once he was inside his studio, he went straight to his computer and turned on the monitor. He noticed that on his secure cell phone, plugged into the charger next to the computer, the message indicator was displayed. He paused, then decided to check his messages before contacting the team.

When he dialed into his phone's voicemail system, his sister's voice greeted him.

"Chuck? Where have you been the last few weeks? Morgan came by the other day and said you were on some kind of business trip. I would have thought you'd tell me before you vanished on me. Give me a call? Love you."

He groaned softly. He should have known not telling Ellie would backfire on him. Rather than keep her in suspense any longer, he quickly dialed her number.

"Hello?" Ellie sounded frazzled.

"Hey, sis-I know I should have called you before I went missing, but everything's fine," he said, hoping his apology came through in his voice.

"Oh my God, Chuck, don't do that to me again! I'm used to when Dad pulls a disappearing act, but not you."

Chuck winced. "So Dad's gone, too?"

Ellie blew out a breath. "No, he's still at my place. I think Devon's starting to lose patience with him, though, after Dad took apart the blender the other day."

"Dad was probably trying to make the world safe from wheatgrass shakes," Chuck said, trying to make his sister laugh.

"I'm still mad at you-don't try to make me forget that," Ellie said tartly. "Where have you been, Chuck?"

"I'm in Irvine-the department is considering switching from Windows to RIOS for all their computers, so I've been here at Roark Instruments trying to work out all the details, see if it's feasible for us," Chuck said, grateful that the CIA had done so much to help him think on his feet.

"At least you're not on the other side of the world or anything," Ellie said, still sounding grumpy.

He felt a stab of guilt at not telling Ellie sooner about this trip, especially with leaving their dad on her hands. "I'm really sorry, El. But I'm nearly done here and as soon as I get back, I'll call you and we'll have dinner. Just me and you, my treat."

A loud crash in the background made Chuck sit up in his chair. "Ellie?"

"Sorry, Chuck-I'm at work and I have to go now. Call me when you're back, okay? Love you!"

And with that, she ended the call. Chuck was well-used to being hung up on by now, thanks to Ellie's job, so he put down his phone and turned to his computer.

Within a few moments, he had a message about a set of antique train prints ready to be posted on the LA section of Craigslist. That was what Sarah and Casey were waiting to see, to know it was time to contact him. He set up the video conferencing software on his computer and adjusted the webcam while he waited.

It only took a few minutes for Sarah and Casey to appear onscreen. Chuck couldn't help smiling widely at them. "You guys are a sight for sore eyes."

Casey grunted. "Keep it in your pants, Bartowski."

"We don't have much time, Chuck," Sarah said, shooting Casey a look before turning to face Chuck again. Her voice softened a little. "How are you doing?"

"I'm good," Chuck said, taking a better look at her. Sarah looked tired, like she had been losing sleep. He tried to inject as much enthusiasm as possible into his voice. "I'm ready to wrap up this mission by going into Roark and look for the final piece we need, to confirm the connection that the Fulcrum Intersect told us about."

"That's gonna be tough, with Fulcrum providing private security to Ted Roark," Casey said.

Chuck felt his mouth fall open. "What?"

"Over the last few days, dozens of suspected Fulcrum double agents have arrived in Los Angeles," Sarah said. "It's unclear why they're here, but it makes sense that something big is going down at Roark Instruments and they're here to make sure it happens."

He frowned. "What does that mean for this mission?"

"Too risky to go in and do the big info grab," Casey said shortly. "You'll need to stay there and wait 'em out. Get the intel a little at a time."

Stay longer at Roark? No, no. He couldn't put off the rest of his life-he was ready to leave. And he knew his plan would work. "That's not going to work," Chuck said, shaking his head. "It'd be too easy to trace the leak to me."

"I agree-it's unwise to keep Chuck at Roark any longer than necessary," Sarah said. "We have enough on Roark. You should just leave, Chuck."

"I don't know, guys . . ." Chuck said slowly. "I still think I should try going in, see what I can get."

"Trying to be a hero?" Casey said, folding his arms over his chest. "Better to get out and stay alive."

Chuck felt touched by this sign of Casey's concern, but he couldn't let that sway him. "I can cover my tracks," Chuck insisted. "There'll be almost no signs of what I'm doing if I'm inside Roark. And the fact of the matter is, we don't have enough to get Ted Roark on terrorism charges. We need more."

He could see both Casey and Sarah getting ready to argue. "Trust me on this. Meet me at the entrance to RI on Sunday at 11:00pm. I'll go in and you can monitor me. If anything goes wrong, you come in guns blazing and I'll meet you halfway."

Sarah nibbled on her lower lip, then looked at Casey. The NSA agent grunted a little. "The longer he stays undercover, the more likely he'd get made, even among the land of the geeks."

"I doubt that," Sarah said with a raised eyebrow. "Okay, we'll go with your plan, Chuck. But anything goes wrong, we're not going to wait to come in."

"I understand," Chuck said. He gazed at her for a moment, then smiled a little. "See you on Sunday."

She looked at him and smiled, too. It made the tension in her face drain away and left her looking less tired. "See you on Sunday."

Casey nodded. "Bartowski."

The video feed cut out and Chuck leaned back in his chair. The plan was in place-now he just needed to do it without getting killed.

Chuck set his jaw. He had too much to live for to die now.

XXX

Looking around, Chuck pulled off the road and parked. It was just before eleven; Sarah and Casey should be arriving any minute now. He was a bit nervous about seeing Sarah again, but he was even more nervous about this final mission. He'd never had so much riding on an operation. But he had to stay calm and focused to get the job done.

He stepped out of the car, leaving the doors unlocked and the keys on the seat. He wouldn't be needing the Honda anymore. Carrying a small duffel with the few items he had brought with him that weren't part of his cover, Chuck leaned against the side of the car, looking around.

After a few moments, he saw headlights approaching. He lifted his hand in a small wave as he saw it was the standard-issue van that they used. When the van came to a stop, he quickly opened the door and climbed inside.

To his surprise, he saw that Sarah was behind the wheel. Casey nodded to Chuck from his seat in the back. "Bartowski."

"Hey, Casey," Chuck said, stowing his duffel and sitting down. He looked over at Sarah, who was facing forward. "Hi, Sarah."

"Hi, Chuck," she said, her voice carefully neutral. But she looked at him via the rear-view mirror for a few long moments before she started up the van again.

He took a deep breath and made himself look away from her. Turning in his seat, he saw a crate of supplies and leaned down. He slid a few USB drives into his pockets, along with a cell phone set up with his transfer gadget, joining his two RI badges. Looking over his weapon options, he went with the tranq gun. Better to have silence and no blood on his hands tonight. He tucked the tranq gun into the back of his black pants, letting his loose grey t-shirt fall over the gun.

"You sure about this?" Casey asked as Chuck strapped on a watch with a built-in GPS tracker and a microphone.

"We need this intel," Chuck said, glancing at Casey. "Cutting off Fulcrum is more important than anything else."

"Yeah, well, it'd suck if losing the Intersect was on my record," Casey said.

Chuck couldn't help a grin. "Then we'll just have to make sure that doesn't happen." He worked an earwig into place and ran through a comms check before turning to the computer in front of him. Quickly pulling up a map of the Roark campus, he said, "The main entrance is here. I'm going to head over to this wing, where the top-secret stuff is kept. I'll copy as much as I can and then get out of there, meeting you guys back here. If I run into any trouble, especially if I'm not alone, the code to come in is 'pineapple'."

"Pineapple?" Casey asked.

"Old Buy More evacuation code," he said, feeling a bit distracted as he tried to get Sarah's attention. But she was keeping her eyes on the road until they reached the entrance. Once there, she put the van in park and turned to face him.

"We're here," she said quietly.

He nodded and stood up as best he could inside the van. "This is it. I'll see you soon." He paused, then took a few steps closer to Sarah and leaned down towards her. Lowering his voice, he said, "I missed you, Sarah."

She did a double-take, her head lifting to look at him. He gave her a small, hopeful smile. "I'm hoping we might get a few days off after this, just for us. Sound good?"

The muscles in her throat worked for a moment, then she nodded. "Yeah. It does sound good." She looked at him, then reached out and lightly touched his shoulder. "Be careful."

"Hey, it's me," he said, giving her a lopsided smile.

Sarah's lips quirked. "That's from one of those Star Wars movies."

"Yep," he said, leaning in and quickly kissing her cheek. "I'll be back before you know it."

Casey cleared his throat loudly and pointedly. Chuck grinned at Sarah and hopped out of the van. There was no time to waste-after all, he had a date later.

XXX

He really should have done more running lately.

Panting, Chuck moved through the corridors of the main building on the Roark campus. He'd managed to get into the top-secret area, just like on Friday. But tonight, there were guards roaming the halls-and these were not moonlighting cops making some extra money. He'd already had three flashes identifying the men as Fulcrum agents.

Now he was playing hide-and-seek, trying to find his way to the server room that was in the center of this area, all while fighting a flash-caused headache. There, he could access Ted Roark's private files. It should be just around this corner and at the end of the hall . . .

He glanced around the corner, spotting three men at the end of the corridor. Taking a breath, he checked his tranq gun and quickly shot each man two times, waiting for the sound of them hitting the ground before he moved away from cover.

Swiveling his head, he hurried down the hall and quickly swiped his badge through the card reader. "Access denied. You're not supposed to be here," came Ted Roark's voice.

"Tell me about it," he muttered as he fumbled for his cell phone. He should be able to crack the card reader on the fly, but it'd take time he didn't really have.

Before he could even get started, though, he heard a voice behind him. "Chuck."

He froze. That-that couldn't be-

Chuck spun around, realizing he hadn't been hallucinating when he saw his father at the other end of the hallway, looking a bit sheepish.

"D-dad?" he spluttered. "What are you-how did you-you can't be here!"

Stephen shuffled down to him. "There's no time to explain. If you want to get into that server room, you'll need my help." To Chuck's continuing shock, his father pulled back the sleeve of his shirt, revealing some kind of gauntlet strapped around his arm. He tapped on it, entering commands, then cursed. "I can't hack the card reader. You're going to have to flash on the override code, Charles."

If he had thought he was surprised before, now he was dumbstruck. He stared at his father as all the pieces fell into place. "You're Orion," he said, his voice low and awed.

His father looked at him, then gave a small, modest shrug of his shoulders. "Yeah. But that's not important now. You've got to defeat Ted Roark-the Intersect can't fall into his hands. That's just what Fulcrum wants."

He swallowed. "I-I know. But, Dad, I can't just make a flash come-"

"Of course you can," Stephen said, cutting him off. "You just have to focus." He turned Chuck so that he could face the card reader and its touchscreen panel displaying a number pad. He hit several keys and the display changed to number grids.

Chuck looked at the grids, trying to keep himself calm. "Dad . . ."

"I designed the Intersect, Chuck. I know what it can do. You can control it. Look at the numbers."

There was such confidence in Stephen's voice. Like Chuck really could do this. So Chuck looked at the nine grids, each featuring a different arrangement of eight numbers.

Suddenly, he felt the same familiar sensation as the Intersect, the real one, fed him the override. He shook his head as he came out of the flash, realizing that the door had slid open. He looked at his father, knowing he must look as surprised as he felt.

"Told you," Stephen said simply, a proud smile on his face. "Now let's go."

He nodded dumbly and followed Stephen into the server room. Instead of the banks of servers he had expected, there was just one lone computer in the center of the room. Chuck hurried over and started copying the information as quickly as he could. He glanced at his father. "How did you know I was here?"

"Ellie," Stephen said. "She told me you were here at Roark Instruments. I put two and two together and started tracking you. When your partners left your base, I followed them."

"So . . . so you know I'm a spy," Chuck said, feeling nervous. He made himself keep looking at the computer, his fingers flying as he kept copying the information.

"Yes, I do. I've known since you were identified as a candidate for Project Omaha." Stephen sighed. "I very nearly came out of hiding to warn you not to do this. This isn't what I wanted for you."

"I'm sorry, Dad, but you don't get much say in my life," Chuck snapped out. He sighed and looked over at his father. "I didn't mean that."

"No, you're right," Stephen said, sounding more regretful than Chuck had ever heard him. "I'm hoping I can make up for that."

"What a touching family reunion."

Ted Roark's voice echoed in the server room. Chuck leaped to his feet, yanking the USB drive from the computer and palming it. He quickly lifted his watch to his mouth and muttered one word as Ted Roark and six other men stepped into the room through a previously concealed door.

"How wonderful, to see my old friend finally revealing his secrets to his son." Ted Roark walked over towards Stephen and slapped him on the back. "All while playing right into my hands."

Stephen stepped back. "What do you want, Ted?"

"I want the almighty Orion, but shouldn't you have already guessed that?" Roark tsked. "You're getting slow in your old age, I suppose. But then, who of us hasn't?" He turned towards the man at the front of the group of agents. "Vincent, kill the son, then take Mr. Bartowski to the roof. The helicopter should be waiting."

Chuck tried to move closer to his father, only for two Fulcrum agents to grab his arms tightly.

"My son goes free, or you'll get nothing from me," Stephen said, pulling himself up to his full height.

Roark sighed. "That's just so filial of you. All right, very well." He waved a hand and the Fulcrum agents let go of Chuck.

"Dad, no-" he said, looking at Stephen. But his father merely stepped back a few feet, moving further away from Chuck.

"One of the ways I can make things up to you is letting you get out of here with that team of yours," Stephen said. "So you can make things right."

Chuck felt a presence behind him and somehow he knew it was Sarah and Casey, arriving as his backup. But he felt frozen by what his father was doing, by how he was failing. "No, no-I can't leave you, Dad-" He tried to move towards Stephen, but the lead Fulcrum agent was dragging his father away. And Sarah and Casey had both taken his arms, pulling him back.

He struggled, trying to break free, until Casey punched him across the jaw. "Calm down, Bartowski!"

"You hit me and then tell me to calm down?!" Chuck yelped, holding on to his face.

"Not now," Sarah said quickly. "Chuck, does Roark know about you?"

He slowly shook his head. "No-no. He just knows that my dad is Orion."

Casey's soft "What the hell?" overlapped with Sarah's "Excuse me?"

"My father is Orion," Chuck repeated as they got out of the building, all of them taking off at a run towards the gatehouse and the main road.

Sarah looked at Casey. "It's not safe for Chuck-Roark and Fulcrum could find out who he is."

Casey nodded. "You two go to ground. I'll track down Ori-Stephen Bartowski."

"No, no, it should be me," Chuck said, prepared to argue. Casey cocked his fist back, glaring at him.

"Go with Walker. We've lost Orion. We can't lose the Intersect, too."

"Casey's right, Chuck," Sarah said, her voice soft. She grabbed his hand once they reached the road. "We'll take his car. Good luck, Casey."

Casey nodded, already climbing into the van and firing it up.

"Sarah, wait-no, we have to-"

"Chuck, don't take this the wrong way, but shut up," Sarah snapped, yanking him down the road until they reached the Honda. "Get in," she said, pulling open the driver's door and sliding the key into the ignition in one smooth move.

He barely had time to get inside before Sarah had started the car and spun it around, heading back towards Irvine.

Closing his eyes, Chuck leaned back against the seat and tried to make sense of the last half hour. His father, his absent-minded genius of a father, was responsible for the computer inside his head. And now he was in the clutches of Fulcrum, with who knows what getting done to him. Chuck had just given Fulcrum a huge asset and he'd lost his father at the same time.

"It's going to be all right, Chuck," Sarah said softly, breaking his trance.

He shook his head, opening his eyes to look at her. "No, Sarah, it's not."

She looked at him, a streetlight briefly lighting up her face. Worry, sadness, regret and uncertainty were on display, probably mirroring his own expression. She nibbled on her lower lip, then turned away and looked at the road.

And because there was nothing left to say, he fell into silence and stared out the window of the car as the scenery flew past.

End, Chapter 11


	12. Chapter 12

Sarah gripped the steering wheel tightly. The silence in the car was like a weight pressing down on her. It had been barely an hour since they had left the Roark campus according to the dashboard clock, but it felt much longer.

Taking a breath, she looked over at Chuck. Seeing him this silent, this withdrawn-it was making her worry. She had harbored such high hopes for this moment: Chuck finishing his assignment at Roark, the two of them together again, perhaps getting the chance to start over . . .

She straightened her shoulders. Right now, before they could work on their relationship, she had to make sure that he was all right.

"Chuck?" she asked softly.

He didn't say anything and she repeated his name. He started and looked at her. "What?" he said, his voice raspy.

"I just want you to know, we're not going to let anything happen to your dad. Casey will be running the operation to locate him and I know Casey can find him." She glanced at him, trying to reassure him. At the same time, she checked the rearview mirror for any signs of a tail. The last thing she wanted to happen was Fulcrum tracking them.

Chuck sighed softly. "I know Casey can do it. I just . . ."

"You just what?" she asked, looking over at him again.

"It's my fault. If it wasn't for me, he wouldn't have been there, he wouldn't have been taken by Fulcrum." Chuck's voice was bleak, his sadness and guilt evident.

"You don't know that, Chuck," she said. "Fulcrum has been looking for Orion for a long time. He could have been captured at any moment and it would have had nothing to do with you."

"But that's not what happened, Sarah."

She swallowed. "I know."

He blew out a breath. "It's not that I doubt Casey. I wish I could be there, though. Helping to find my dad."

"I'm sorry about that." She changed lanes, giving herself a moment to gather her thoughts. "Since your father-Orion-knows that you're the Intersect, you need to go to ground for a while, in case Fulcrum is able to extract that information from him." She could sense him getting ready to object, so she continued. "I know it's unlikely, but we have to be sure. So until we know, the two of us will be at a safe house."

Chuck looked disgruntled, but he nodded. "All right. But I still want to help."

"The safe house should have some kind of computer. We'll be able to communicate with Casey and get status updates."

"I suppose that will be enough for now," Chuck said. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him looking at her. "And . . . and I guess we're going to be there a while. Just the two of us."

Sarah nibbled on her lower lip for a moment. "I don't know how long it will be, but yes. It'll be just us." She hesitantly looked over at him, wondering what his reaction was.

He looked thoughtful, his forehead wrinkled. "And you're okay with that?"

Was she? That was a good question. Because this situation meant that there was no excuses for them now. There was nothing to keep them from talking and working on their problems. So if after this they hadn't fixed things . . .

"Yes, I am," she said quietly. "It might not be how you imagined it, but we are getting a few days off. And it's just us." She glanced at him.

"That's definitely true," he said, a small grin forming on his face. "So . . . so what's this safe house like?"

"I don't know-I just picked the closest one to Irvine that wasn't in LA." Sarah checked the clock. "We've got about forty-five minutes until we get there, but thankfully everything we need will be in the house." She looked in the rearview, checking yet again to see if they were being followed.

"Okay," Chuck said, shifting in his seat. "We should probably change the plates on this car, if we're going to hang on to it."

She nodded-that was standard procedure when trying to elude possible pursuers. "We're running low on gas. When we stop, you handle the plates while I pump the gas and distract anyone who asks questions."

He chuckled softly. "Good plan. You're much more distracting than I could ever be."

Sarah felt her face flush a little at his unexpected compliment. She had been struggling with her emotions ever since she had seen him earlier tonight. And she was definitely feeling the impact of being near him again. Absence really did make the heart grow fonder, it appeared.

Giving him a quick, small smile, she turned on the blinker, signaling her change of lanes towards the upcoming exit. It would only be a little while longer until they'd be able to start talking, so as much as she could, she needed to start preparing for that conversation.

XXX

When she pulled up in front of the supposed safe house, Sarah felt her heart plummet. This abandoned-looking shack was it? She understood that appearances could be deceiving, but she had seen nicer hovels in third-world countries.

She looked over at Chuck, who appeared equally dumbstruck before he cleared his throat. "I suppose something fancy would stick out around here." He gestured at the sandy landscape, covered in scrub brush under a dark, star-filled sky. They were ten miles from Barstow, but they might have been as well been a hundred, due to the remote feeling of the area.

"Yeah," she said, nodding. "Let's see if it's better on the inside." She climbed out of the car and stretched a little before walking up to the creaky porch. According to the directions Casey had sent her via text message, the key was underneath a loose floorboard.

Once she stepped into the house, she sighed softly. There weren't gaping holes in the walls or a collapsed ceiling at least, but the interior was dingy and clearly hadn't been redecorated since the 1970s, based on the faded orange carpet and olive green sofa. The door opened onto a small living room; on the left was an open kitchen with a mismatched table and chairs inside it. Two doors along the wall at the back of the living area probably lead to the bedrooms. She wondered where the bathroom might be.

"At least it's pretty clean," Chuck said, coming in behind her. He walked over to the kitchen and started opening up the cabinets. "And it looks like there's plenty of food. Nothing fresh, but that's not surprising."

She nodded. "Yeah . . ." She walked over to the doors and opened them. "Here's one of the bedrooms," she said, peering into the first room and seeing a double bed covered in a threadbare floral spread. "And over here-" she said, opening the second door.

"The second bedroom? Where's the bathroom?" Chuck asked, calling out from the kitchen.

Sarah cleared her throat as the living arrangements finally sunk in. "No, this is the bathroom. It looks like there's only one bedroom."

Chuck pulled away from the cabinets, walking over towards her and looking over her shoulder into the bathroom. "Oh." She could hear him swallow before he spoke again. "I-I can take the sofa."

That was doubtful. The sofa wasn't nearly long enough for either of them to sleep on. She looked at him skeptically and Chuck shrugged. "Or I can take the floor."

"No, we can share the bed." She looked up at him. "It'll be okay, Chuck."

Now it was his turn to look doubtful. "You're sure?"

"Yes," she said, hoping she sounded more confident and less ruffled than she felt. In the past, she would have argued that for propriety's sake, they shouldn't share a bed. She knew it might seem odd that she was changing her tune about sharing a bed, but she was tired of worrying about something that would keep them apart. "After all, the only person who knows we're here is Casey. And if he came here and found us sharing a bed, it . . . it probably wouldn't be that big of a surprise to him." She could feel her cheeks flush, but she didn't look away from him.

Chuck looked surprised, but he slowly nodded. "Um, okay, then. Are you hungry?"

She shook her head, feeling a wave of relief at his acceptance of this strange situation. "No, but I would like to take a shower, if you don't need the bathroom."

"It's all yours," he said. "I'll just . . ." His voice trailed off and he gestured over towards the kitchen.

"All right," Sarah said, feeling the awkwardness between them. She stepped into the bedroom, going through the dresser and wincing as the drawers squeaked. She found a gray t-shirt and carried it into the bathroom. A cabinet held towels and toiletries-including, she noticed, a few boxes of condoms that made her flush.

Starting the shower, she set the t-shirt and towel down on the counter next to the sink and stripped off her clothes. She unstrapped the holster of knives from around her ankle, putting them within easy reach of the shower, just in case. Then she stepped under the spray, savoring the hot water. If the CIA had chosen to invest in hidden luxuries for this place, like good water pressure, she could handle the depressing decor. And after all, she was a CIA agent. Luxury villas or high-end condos were the exception, not the rule.

As she got clean, she took deep breaths. All the things she had been thinking about, like what she would say to Chuck once there were no interruptions, were all jumbled up in her head. She wasn't sure if there was any way to organize her thoughts. There didn't seem to be one perfect way to start talking to him. But it could definitely wait until the morning, she thought as she yawned.

She stepped out of the shower, dried off and got dressed. Pulling on the ponytail holder that had kept her hair out of the shower spray, she shook her head and ran her fingers through her hair. She gazed at herself in the mirror and gave herself a silent pep talk. It was time to stop stalling.

When she stepped into the small bedroom, her eyes immediately looked for Chuck. He was stretched out in the bed, the covers pulled up to his chin. For some reason, that made her heart tighten. Whenever they had shared a bed, he had wrapped the covers around himself. She always had thought it was one of his more adorable traits.

His eyes locked on hers as she approached the bed. He cleared his throat. "Okay?"

"Yeah," she said softly, her voice sounding a bit hoarse. She turned off the lamp next to her side and slipped under the covers, shifting a little as she tried to get comfortable. The mattress was surprisingly supportive, free of lumps or squeaky springs. But sharing a bed with Chuck, after so much time apart, meant it was all she could do not to toss and turn.

"Sarah?" Chuck's voice cut through the darkness.

Stretched out on her side with her back facing him, she looked over her shoulder at him. Her eyes were still adjusting to the lack of light, so she couldn't really see his expression enough to figure out what he was feeling. "Yeah, Chuck?" she asked softly.

"What . . . what's going to happen if we can't find my father? If the CIA thinks I need more protection than a few days in a safe house?"

Trust Chuck to immediately ask the hard questions. Because she knew what might happen to him. Even though he was a fully-trained agent, the Intersect was too valuable a weapon for the CIA to risk. If there was a chance that Fulcrum could come after Chuck Bartowski, the Human Intersect . . .

Sarah turned away from him and squeezed her eyes shut. It wouldn't come to that. She wouldn't let that happen. It took all her control to keep her voice even. "One thing at a time, Chuck."

She didn't know if that was enough of an answer for him. Or if he understood that it was all she could say right now. After the day they had experienced, everything looked bleak. She hoped that the morning would bring something good for the both of them.

XXX

The pink-red haze that penetrated her eyelids told Sarah that it was morning. But she was entirely too comfortable to think about opening her eyes and starting her day.

She felt warm, safe. Soft breath stirred the hair on the back of her neck, sending a shiver down her spine. But this shiver didn't portend danger or high alert. It was much more pleasant. An arm was draped over her waist, solid and firm. His fingers were brushing against hers and she sighed. She slowly stroked his warm, soft skin before moving back against Chuck.

Chuck?

Chuck!

Sarah tensed, her eyes flying open. She half-rolled over, ending up partly on her side, partly on her back. She looked up into Chuck's wide brown eyes, feeling her breath catch at what she saw there.

Then, as if their bodies and mind were one, they reached for each other.

It was too hard to describe what was happening and what she was feeling. All she knew was that suddenly, everything seemed right. The feel of his lips against hers. Her hands gripping his t-shirt, sliding into his hair. The way her heart seemed too big for her body, pounding frantically and echoing in her ears.

This was right. This was what she needed.

Only the instinct for oxygen made her stop kissing him, pulling away to take huge, gulping breaths. At some point, her eyes had closed, so she opened them, seeing that Chuck was breathing just as hard as she was. She felt dazed, but she knew she wanted more. Needed more.

Reaching up, she lightly touched his chin before stroking his jaw. She saw his eyes grow hazy before he leaned in and kissed her again. This time, it wasn't frenzied and breathless. Instead, it was slow and deep and searching.

She knew this couldn't go on for long. They both had a lot to talk about before they'd be ready to take this kiss to its logical conclusion. And she wasn't ready to be that close to Chuck without showing him that she was ready to open up to him. She was ready to give him herself. Not everything, since she didn't quite know yet all that she had to give. But even now, she could give him more than she had offered before. And this would be just the start for her, for him, for them.

The kiss ended slowly, each of them lingering, until both of them drew away from the other. Sarah let herself fall back on the bed while Chuck propped himself up on his arms. She looked up at him, then brushed some of her hair out of her eyes.

What could she say? How could words follow up something so perfect? She felt so aware of how bad she was at this: talking, putting her feelings into words. But she had to try.

"Wow," she blurted out.

Chuck grinned at her, his eyes dancing. Sarah felt her face go red and she slapped a hand over her mouth.

"And here I was worried about saying the wrong thing," he teased her, shifting to put his weight on one arm. He lightly stroked her hair and it was all she could do not to close her eyes and sigh. But she couldn't let herself get distracted now.

She arched an eyebrow. "So it wasn't wow for you?"

"Did I say that?" he asked, his grin belying the innocent tone of his voice. "I don't think I said that."

"So what are you saying, then?" she asked, gazing up at him.

It took Chuck a moment to respond. His grin softened into a smile-no, not just a smile. Into that special smile, the one he used to give her when they were together and happy. The one that never failed to make her feel like the center of his world.

"I'm saying . . . wow," he said softly. He leaned in towards her slowly and brushed a kiss over her lips.

Sarah bit her lip, trying to hold back another sigh. It'd be so easy to keep kissing and enjoy this moment. But that was how things had gotten so strained between them in the first place. She hadn't been willing to be vulnerable, hadn't wanted to talk to him about what she was feeling.

She didn't want to do that again.

"Listen, Chuck . . ." she said, keeping her voice soft and gentle, even though she wasn't exactly sure what she was going to say. But she knew she had to let him down easy and cool things off.

Chuck smiled again, in a resigned way this time. "As nice as this is, we're jumping the gun?"

Nodding, she smiled a little, feeling her cheeks flush. "Yeah."

He moved into a sitting position and she mimicked him, pushing herself up and folding her legs underneath herself. Chuck rubbed a hand over his hair, then rested his hands on his knees. "So," he said, looking at her.

"So," she said, looking at him. She hesitated, racking her mind for how to start. But all of the things she had been thinking about for weeks had vanished from her mind. She had a near-photographic memory, yet she couldn't think of a thing to say.

"I-I don't know where to start," Sarah said, looking at Chuck.

"I know," he said, nodding. "There . . . there's a lot." He gazed at her, then cleared his throat. "I might have some ideas. On how to get started. Since I did a lot of thinking while I was undercover."

Hearing that Chuck had been thinking about their issues, like she had, made Sarah feel oddly relieved. "Why don't you go first?" She tried not to fidget as she said, "I think I'll need some time to work up to what I've been thinking about."

Her small admission made Chuck brighten. "You've been thinking about us, too?"

"Of course I have," she said. "I mean . . . we both know that things haven't been right between us for a while. No, that's not it," Sarah said, correcting herself. "It's more that something between us, all of a sudden, just got out of sync."

Chuck nodded. "Yeah . . . 'out of sync' is a good way to put it. And it took me a long time to figure out the reasons why. At least my reasons."

She waited for him to go on, but he didn't. He looked down, rubbing his knees as he hesitated. Should she try and prompt him? Get him talking? Or could she be a little less obvious?

The silence was starting to fill the room, making the tension rise. Taking a breath, Sarah reached out and rested her hand on top of his. "What are your reasons?" she asked, feeling like she was jumping off a cliff without being sure if her parachute was working.

He lifted his head and looked at her, his expression nervous. "Well . . . for starters, I-" Chuck paused and swallowed, seemingly collecting himself. "I stopped talking to you. I stopped trying to ask you what you wanted-I didn't ask you anything, even though I had-have-a million questions. It's not like me to clam up like that."

Sarah frowned a little, thinking over what he had said. That was true: Chuck was inquisitive and talkative. She'd lost count of how many times he'd drawn a stranger into conversation. She had always marveled at how he could get anyone talking. Yet at some point, a point arriving so slowly that she hadn't even noticed, he'd stopped asking her questions. First about her childhood and how she had grown up, then about how she had felt during her spy training, until he didn't even ask her how she was feeling or what she had done that day.

She had become a stranger to him, because he wouldn't ask and she couldn't tell.

"I still want to know, though," he said. "I just got so scared-" He broke off, looking embarrassed.

"Scared?" she asked, hearing the surprise in her voice. "Scared of what?"

He shrugged his shoulders. "Of you," he said softly.

"I'm scary?" She felt confused and uncertain. He thought she was scary? What did that mean? Was this some kind of insecurity he had, something to do with her being a woman with extensive martial arts training and weapons experience? Did he think she would hurt him? She started to pull her hand away from his, needing some distance.

"No, no, you're not scary!" he said, quickly grabbing her hand and holding on tight. "But I was scared of you. There's a difference."

"I don't understand, Chuck," she said, feeling those old urges to flee, to run away and hide.

"I was scared of you, not because of anything you've done," he explained, his words coming in a rush. "But I was scared of what would happen if I kept asking you questions, kept pushing you. If you'd get tired of it and just . . ." He looked at her, his eyes wide and frantic. "If you'd decide that it was more than you could handle and you'd leave. Go off and be this amazing woman in amazing places and I'd be alone and-" He swallowed, his voice choked. "Alone and miserable."

In the past, she had been accused of being an ice queen, of having no feelings. It wasn't true. She had plenty of feelings; she had just learned how not to show them, how to hold back until she was alone and safe. But between the weeks of soul-searching and regrets and now Chuck's sweet, honest admission, it was all too much. Her walls couldn't deal with this.

It wasn't just her own behavior that made her feel like she could cry. It was bad enough that she'd been so closed off that he'd been scared of talking to her. But it was also realizing that Chuck had his own insecurities and fears, ones that were strong and hard to overcome like her own. It changed her perspective on him, to see just how deeply his parents had affected him, how their actions had shaped him just as her father's had changed her.

She took a few deep breaths, trying to keep the tears away. "W-why would you think I'd leave?"

Chuck gripped her hand. "As long as I didn't ask, as long as I didn't push you, I could pretend that everything was fine, that we were fine. That you were happy with me."

The words 'That's crazy' were nearly out of her mouth before she realized how that might make him feel. Instead, she only asked, "But isn't the not knowing worse than knowing, one way or another?"

He gave her a small, lopsided smile. "Not when you're doing a really good ostrich impression."

She did her best to smile back at him, then rubbed her thumb against his hand. "You don't have to do that. Be an ostrich, I mean." She looked at him for a moment. "It's really hard for me to talk about myself. To share." Squaring her shoulders, she continued. "I was an only child and it was just me and my dad for most of my life."

Letting go of her hand, Chuck moved closer to her, wrapping an arm around her. She leaned into him as she continued speaking, feeling herself grow stronger as she kept speaking. "It was always about me doing what he asked and not complaining. Sticking to the plan. So I learned that it was better to keep my opinions, my feelings, to myself."

There seemed to be several questions he was fighting not to ask. Sarah nodded to him, encouraging him to speak. He shook his head. "No-keep talking."

She couldn't help smiling a little. "I was getting to that. I don't mind you asking me questions. Trying to make me talk. Because . . . because I know you wouldn't hurt me. You're not trying to find out in order to use what you learn against me. You just want to know about me." She hesitated as she felt a pinprick of doubt. "Right?"

He nodded emphatically. "Yes, right. You're just so-you're like this mystery, Sarah. I want to know everything about you, discover all I can, because I-" Chuck's jaws practically clicked together, he closed his mouth so hard. She looked at him curiously, wondering what he was holding back. He only gave her a small, sheepish grin before speaking again. "Can I ask why you and your dad always moved around?"

This was it. This was when she revealed one of her deepest, darkest secrets. Yet it didn't feel nearly as hard as she used to think it would. Of course, she was still a little worried about his reaction, but that was all-worry, not fear.

Still, it took her a moment to find the right words. "My dad was-well, is, actually-he's a con artist. When I was growing up, I'd help him. Be the distraction, the nice little girl who drew everyone's attention while he lifted the bags of money from the armored car." She paused and looked at him. "He's in prison now. He was arrested right before I got recruited."

"Oh, Sarah," Chuck said, gazing at her, his voice soft and tender. "I'm sorry."

She shook her head. "Don't be. He was bound to get caught at some point. Sometimes, I'm a little grateful that it didn't happen sooner, because then I don't know what would have happened to me." She paused, surprised by what she had just realized. "Because . . . because if it wasn't for him, I don't think I would have gotten recruited. I don't think I would have become such a good spy. And that means I wouldn't have met you."

"That is an incredibly romantic, but also incredibly nice way of looking at things," Chuck said, lightly stroking her hair. "Nicer than I could be, if our positions were reversed."

"I don't think so," she said, curling up against him a little. "Look at how you are with your dad. Willing to give him another chance to be part of your life."

"I could also be a glutton for punishment. A genius who's really dumb." He smiled at her, stroking her back lightly.

"Wrong," she said quietly, smiling back at him.

"You seem to have a very high opinion of me," Chuck said, leaning in towards her. But before he could kiss her, his stomach rumbled loudly.

Sarah couldn't help laughing-no, it was actually a giggle. She had never giggled before.

"Right," Chuck said, laughing as well. "Obviously, I'm hungry."

She leaned in and kissed his cheek. "Were there eggs in the kitchen?"

"There were the fake kind," he said. "You know, the little cartons of liquid not-egg."

"I guess that will have to be good enough," Sarah said as she got up. "Come on, I'm going to make you an omelet."

He grinned widely at her. "Like you did in the suburbs?"

Sarah nodded, grinning back. "That was how I learned how to make an omelet. I wanted to make breakfast for you, so I went through two dozen eggs so I could figure out how to make an omelet. After all that work, I'd hate to lose my touch."

"You learned how to make omelets for me?" He sounded shocked, almost awed, even. Like no one had ever done something so nice for him. But it wasn't that nice, was it? Not really . . .

And she had just told him something personal, something that normally would have been embarrassing to admit, something that she never would have told him. It had happened so naturally she hadn't even realized she was doing it.

Maybe this talking thing wasn't as hard as she thought it would be.

XXX

Sarah stood in the doorway of the bedroom, leaning against the door jamb as she watched Chuck.

He was sitting on the floor, crouched over the safe house's computer as he continued tinkering. When she had asked him yesterday what he was doing, he'd explained so quickly that she wasn't sure what he was doing. She suspected he was working on the computer partly to keep his mind off the fact there was still no sign that Casey had found Stephen Bartowski.

It had been four days since they had arrived at the safe house. In that time, she was pretty sure she had talked more than she had in her entire life. But it felt so natural, talking to Chuck. It was amazing that she once thought talking was hard. Or maybe it was just something about Chuck. He listened so well and always seemed to know when he should let her talk and figure it out for herself and when she needed him to ask her questions and draw her out.

Their conversations had covered so much ground. She'd never realized just how much he was holding back, because she now knew that Chuck loved to talk about anything. When he was happy, when he was confused, when he was upset. He wasn't doing it to hear himself talk; it was how he processed his emotions, how he figured things out. It was such a different process from her own, which was to think and stay quiet until she knew how she felt. By learning how Chuck worked, she was starting to understand her own nature. It was all so eye-opening to realize these things.

After so many months of soul-searching and struggling as she tried to figure out what kind of woman she was, everything now seemed to be falling into place. Chuck had handed her his digital music player and she'd spent a few hours exploring his music collection, learning what kind of songs she liked. She'd tried that before, of course, but it had always felt like a chore. But this way-listening to a song, asking Chuck about it, seeing him light up as he explained why he liked it-it was so much fun. They'd even had a few bantering arguments about songs and bands. And that was fun, too.

It was like the world was suddenly opening up to her, showing her all the different possibilities that existed. She'd traveled all over, visiting new countries and meeting new people, but she'd always been so focused on the mission that she hadn't let those experiences affect her. But she knew now that it didn't have to be like that. She could experience everything and still keep her edge. At least, she hoped she could. But she had seen how Chuck had marveled at new places while getting the job done. So it was possible; she'd just have to learn how to do it for herself.

"Ouch!"

Chuck's voice drew her out of her thoughts. "What happened?" she asked, walking over and kneeling beside him.

He sucked on his finger for a moment, sending a flutter through her stomach. They'd gotten closer physically as they had opened up to each other, yet they both seemed to be holding back a little. They hadn't followed up on their encounter the first morning in the safe house or even talked about it yet.

"I caught my finger on something inside the case," Chuck said, pulling his finger out of his mouth. He took a look and nodded. "It's not the first time, but it always hurts." He gave her a lopsided grin.

She smiled back at him and took his finger, looking it over. He was right; she couldn't see anything. But giving in to a sudden instinct, she lightly kissed the tip of his finger. "There."

His ears were a light pink as Chuck nodded, looking a bit flustered. "Yeah. Um, hi."

"Hi, yourself," she said, shifting to sit next to him. "Any luck with the computer?"

He shrugged. "I'm just . . ." He paused before speaking again. "I guess I'm just trying to stay busy."

"I know," she said softly, taking his hand. "Casey will contact us when he has any info. He said yesterday that he should know more within the next two days."

Running a hand through his hair, he nodded. "I remember. I'm going a little stir-crazy, I think. Being here, not being able to help Casey, not knowing how my dad is . . ."

She squeezed his hand. "Don't freak out on me, Chuck. It's going to be okay."

"I am freaking out a little," he admitted, looking at her. "But . . . but if you weren't here, I'd be a real basket case." He tugged on her hand and pulled her into a hug. "Thank you for helping me," he said softly.

Her eyes stung as she felt the prick of tears. "You've helped me a lot, too," she said, keeping her voice just as low as his. "More than you know, I think."

His hand lightly stroked her hair. Sarah closed her eyes, enjoying the sensation. Just as much as their conversations, being physical with each other had helped bridge the gap between them. Not feeling hesitant about holding his hand or kissing his cheek . . . she now understood why Chuck had wanted them to be out in the open about their relationship. Because those little physical touches made her feel closer to Chuck. Made it easier to talk and share with him.

She couldn't go back to how things had been when they were in Rome, keeping their relationship hidden. She wanted the whole world to know how she felt about Chuck.

Sarah flushed, feeling her heart rate increase. Over the last few days, she had spent a lot of time thinking about her feelings. About what she wanted. Ever since Chuck had admitted his worries about not knowing how she felt and how those fears had lead him to stop talking to her, she had been asking herself if she knew what kind of relationship they could have. If this was more than just dating, if it could be more.

The answer to all those questions was on the tip of her tongue, but she still didn't feel one hundred percent ready. She was almost there, she just-

Chuck's hand running over her back distracted her. She let out a soft sigh and nuzzled his neck. "You know," she said softly, "there's lots of ways to stay busy."

His hand stopped moving on her back and he shifted, pulling away to look at her with wide eyes. "Wh-what?"

She was tired of thinking. They had spent so much time talking and now she felt so close to him and she knew there were words she needed to say, but she was ready for her actions to do the talking, at least for a little while.

Reaching out, she cupped his face in her hands, lightly stroking his cheeks with her thumbs. She gazed at him, taking in his handsome, expressive, utterly perfect face, then leaned in and kissed him slowly.

It felt so good to kiss him. More than good, really, but there wasn't a word that summed up how it felt to kiss Chuck and have him respond by pressing his lips against hers, wrapping his arms around her, feeling his skin rub against hers and get warmer as they touched.

Sarah slid her arms around his neck, holding him tightly as she looked at him. "I-I don't think we're jumping the gun anymore," she said, quoting his words from their first morning in the safe house.

He looked so dazed and befuddled. She always found that look particularly adorable on him. She couldn't help pressing a soft kiss to his lips, then kissing along his jaw as she waited for his answer.

"No . . . yes!"

"What?" she said, pulling back in surprise.

Chuck was breathing hard, his eyes almost comically wide. "I mean, no, we're not jumping the gun now, there's just one more thing to talk about first," he said, almost babbling. "Something I need to tell you-well, not so much need as want. Because I want to tell you something and I hope you'll want to hear it."

She swallowed, feeling strangely nervous as she pulled her arms away from his neck. But she did her best to smile encouragingly at him. "Okay, Chuck."

"It's nothing bad," he said. "At least I don't think it's bad. I'm hoping it's not. I just-I want to know what would happen if I said something."

Now she was really feeling nervous. Chuck's hesitation wasn't out of place, but it did highlight that whatever he wanted to say, it was important. Really, really important.

It took Chuck a moment to gather his thoughts. Sarah waited, trying to stay calm.

"I kinda talked about this before, but . . . but I think we need to talk about where this is going," he said, his hand gesturing between the two of them. He looked at her and she could see he was trying to stay calm and not babble. "We've been dating a while and it's not been your normal relationship, not that I'm saying I want normal in the traditional sense," Chuck said quickly. "Our relationship is normal to us-normal is what we make it. But . . . but I was wondering what you think."

Yet again, Chuck seemed to read her mind. How did he do that? How did he know what she was thinking about and find a way to ask her to talk to him? It was uncanny. And she was using this tangent to put off thinking about Chuck's question and coming up with an answer.

For the longest time, she hadn't thought much about what would come next for them. Part of that was her spy training, which didn't really promote long-term planning. But a lot of it was her own worries about just how long Chuck would want to stay with her, someone who barely knew herself and wasn't all that interesting. At least, she had started to identify that as one of the reasons she hadn't wanted to think about their relationship.

But this time with Chuck, all these conversations . . . she knew what she wanted. Now she just needed to find a way to say it.

"Until the last few days, I never really thought about it," she said, her voice soft. She sounded vulnerable, she realized, but she took a breath and pressed on. "Now . . . now I know what I want." She looked at him, searching his face and trying to be brave. To show him how much she trusted him.

"And-and what do you want, Sarah?" he asked quietly. He was trying to stay calm, she knew. To not push her. But as hard as he tried, his eyes gave him away. Because she could see all his hopes and dreams, waiting for her as he gazed at her.

"I-I don't want to hide anymore," she said, stumbling a little over her words. "I want to be with you and I don't care if Casey knows, if our bosses know. I'm tired of missing you and not being close because of work. And it's not just work." She paused and acting on instinct, grabbed his hand because she needed to be connected to him at this moment. "I don't want to hide myself from you because I'm scared or nervous or-or because I don't feel like I deserve you."

Chuck blinked. "What?" he asked, his voice an octave higher than normal. "You think _you_ don't deserve _me_?"

She nodded. "You're wonderful. Smart and handsome and funny and-and you've got friends and hobbies and all these different experiences and I'm not like that at all. Until I met you, I was just a spy. And now I don't want to be just Agent Sarah Walker, but it's hard work figuring yourself out and until lately I thought I'd never be able to do it. At least not before you finally realized how I'm only my job and you'd . . . you'd decide you could do better."

"I must be in some kind of bizarro world," Chuck said slowly. "Because you seem to think I could do better than you."

Sarah bit her lower lip. "I know that must make me sound really, really insecure. I don't always think like that. But . . . but sometimes, that's how I feel. And I usually felt like that whenever I thought about us."

"Sarah-" he said, breaking off and running his hands through his hair. "You are-wow. I had no idea, which makes me feel like a bad boyfriend for not figuring this out. But now I know and I'm not going to let you keep feeling this way." He looked at her, then reached out and cupped her face. "I'm never going to think I could do better than you. Because you, Sarah Walker, are the best person I've ever met."

His voice rang with sincerity, his eyes shone with the truth of his words. She felt a strange fluttering sensation around her heart, something she'd never really felt before. But whatever it was, it filled her up and made her feel like the sun was shining after a month of rain.

She opened her mouth to say something-not that she knew what she was going to say-but Chuck brushed his thumb over her lips. "I know I can't make all your insecurities go away. I get that. But . . . but you never have to worry about me, Sarah." He gazed at her for a moment. "I love you."

What?

He loved her?

"Ex-excuse me?" she said, staring at him dumbly. She couldn't have heard him right, not if she was thinking he said "I love you." But why would she imagine that?

And suddenly, that strange emotion she had been feeling, the one that made her feel whole, it started making sense. She knew what it was.

Chuck's smile was soft and happy and hopeful. "I said I love you. It's nice to say. I love you, Sarah. I think I've known for a while but I just wasn't ready to say the words, not until I got past my own hang-ups so I could tell you that I love you."

Sarah was pretty sure she was trembling. She wasn't sure, because she seemed to have lost all her senses except her hearing and her sight. All she could hear and see was Chuck. And he was waiting for her. Not pressing for an answer, not expecting to hear his feelings returned. Just waiting for her to say something.

In a moment like this, she'd expect it to be difficult to talk. To open up and say what she was feeling. But Sarah found that it wasn't hard at all.

"I love you, too," she said, hearing the wonder in her voice. Because it was pretty amazing. She had thought she was just a spy, but she wasn't. She was more. And Chuck loved her.

His face lit up, a huge happy smile spreading across his face before he leaned in and kissed her slowly. It felt like the most natural thing in the world to kiss him back, to wrap her arms around him, to get as close as possible to him.

There was nothing to hold them back now. No interruptions like Morgan or a mission or even a lack of condoms. It was just Chuck and Sarah.

As they moved to the bed and slowly undressed each other, Sarah knew she was smiling nearly as brightly as Chuck. She was so incredibly happy. She'd never felt like this before and it was new and a little scary, but she didn't care because right now she was nearly drunk on euphoria. Not even Chuck pulling away and saying "Condom!" before dashing off could break this spell. And when he came back, carrying just one condom instead of bringing the whole box like any other man would, she couldn't help giggling and pulling him down into a kiss.

Each touch felt magnified, each kiss felt sweeter and hotter than the last. She didn't know if it was because of how long it'd been since they were together or if it was their emotions that made everything better. She guessed it was the emotions, but as Chuck looked into her eyes just before they became one, she knew she'd think about it later. Because now was about feeling.

XXX

An unexpected yet familiar noise jerked Sarah from sleep. Her well-trained instincts made her come to a sitting position, one of her throwing knives already in her hand by the time her eyes were open and her mind was fully awake.

Casey was standing in the doorway of the bedroom. It must have been one of his trademark grunts that woke her. There was a strange look on his face. She'd say it was disgust, but there was something else there, too. Something that almost looked like satisfaction.

Realizing that the covers were slipping enough that Casey was about to get an eyeful, she quickly wrapped one arm over her chest, holding the sheets in place. "Casey? What are you doing here?" she asked, trying to sound professional. But she knew the jig was up, since it was pretty clear what Chuck and she had been doing.

Chuck, who had been fast asleep next to her, woke up with a snort. "Casey?" He looked at Sarah and grinned. "Not the name I expected to hear first thing in the morn-Casey!" Chuck yelped as he sat up and pulled the bed covers up to his chin.

Casey let out a noise that was half-grunt, half-chuckle. "Finally."

Sarah couldn't help a small, rueful smile. "Yeah," she said, looking over at Chuck. He still looked embarrassed at having been caught in bed naked by the third member of their team, but he did his best to smile, too.

"Not that I ever need to see this, ever again," Casey said, gesturing to the two of them. "So put some clothes on and I'll be in the kitchen." With a nod, he turned and left the bedroom, pulling the door shut behind him.

Laughing softly, Sarah flopped back on the bed. "That wasn't how I planned to tell Casey that we are officially together."

"I was kind of hoping we wouldn't have to tell him officially," Chuck said, mimicking her action by laying back down.

She raised an eyebrow. "No?"

Chuck shrugged. "I just thought we'd start holding hands or something and he'd get the message."

"Very spy-like of you," she said, grinning. She kissed his cheek, then got out of bed and started getting dressed.

"Hey, Casey is not the person I want to talk to about my romantic relationship," Chuck said, getting up and stretching.

Sarah smiled even as she watched him out of the corner of her eye. "Good point." She smoothed down her t-shirt and sat down on the bed to pull on her boots. "But we're not worrying about keeping this a secret anymore." She paused and looked up at him. "Right?"

"Right," he said, zipping up his jeans and leaning down to kiss her quickly. "No secrets."

His words were a relief. It was one thing to get discovered by Casey; it was another to work with him now that their relationship was a known fact. Knowing that Chuck wasn't freaking out about this was reassuring.

She waited until he had pulled on a button-down and put on his sneakers, then she held her hand out to him. He smiled at her softly and they walked out of the bedroom hand-in-hand.

End, Chapter 12


	13. Chapter 13

By the time they had walked into the kitchen, Casey already had a pot of coffee half-brewed and was pulling some toast from the ancient toaster. Somehow, he had managed to not burn the toast, unlike Chuck on every other morning while in the safe house.

Casey grunted softly when he saw them; Chuck sensed that his eagle eyes had immediately taken in their joined hands.

"Good morning, Casey. Sorry that you found out about us like . . . you know," he said, taking a seat at the beat-up table and hoping his ears hadn't turned beet-red.

"Too bad I can't tell anyone-it'd be a hell of a story," Casey said, plopping down the toast.

"Is that right?" Sarah asked, sounding equal parts vulnerable and amused.

"The CIA's version of the nerd getting the prom queen? Hell, yeah, it's a good story," Casey said, pouring himself a cup of coffee. "Not that I care what you two get up to, as long as I don't hafta see it and it doesn't affect the job." He looked at them as he sipped his coffee. "Remember this the next time you get hot under the collar about the good of the team, too."

Sarah looked sheepish as she nodded. "Understood." She got up and poured coffee for herself and Chuck. "So what brings you here, Casey?"

And just like that, everything was settled, Chuck marveled as he added sugar to his coffee.

"Sent word yesterday that Fulcrum seems to be bugging out, so it's safe for you two to head back to L.A. And I've got a lead on Bartowski's dad."

Chuck nearly choked on his sip of coffee. "You do? Where? Do you trust the info?"

"Easy there," Casey said. "By the time we get back to the office, I should have confirmation on it. So pack up your stuff and we can hit the road."

"Good," Sarah said, draining her coffee and finishing her toast as she stood up. "It'll only take us a few minutes to get ready."

"Right," Chuck said, taking a large bite of his toast, washing it down with the last of his coffee. "Thanks for breakfast, Casey."

The NSA agent shrugged. "I'll get your car ready. I hope you two weren't too busy to get the car under cover."

He did his best not to blush. "Yeah, we moved it into the shed out back after we arrived."

Casey nodded and headed for the front door. "You've got ten minutes, then we're moving."

As he cleaned up, Chuck's mind juggled a multitude of thoughts. He hoped Casey's lead would pan out, so they could rescue his father and make sure Stephen was okay. He was a little worried about Casey and how the team dynamics would work from here on out, now that Casey knew officially about them. And that thought made Chuck smile, feeling a bit goofy. After all this time, Sarah was willing to have their relationship out in the open. He hadn't realized just how good it would feel, to know that nothing was hidden or secretive anymore.

He grinned as he remembered last night and how good it had felt to be with Sarah, especially after telling her he loved her. It was all he could do not to shout it from the rooftops-and he didn't know what thrilled him more: the fact that he loved her or that she loved him back.

"Watch out, Fulcrum," he said softly as he surveyed the bedroom, making sure it was returned to the condition they had found it. "Chuck Bartowski is after you."

XXX

Even though Chuck was a bit regretful to leave the site of so many good memories, he was ready to leave the safe house and head back to Los Angeles. The three of them stopped at their apartments just long enough for showers and a change of clothes. Each of them would then drive to the office and review Casey's data about where Orion might be held.

While he was in his apartment, Chuck had noticed the calendar hanging on the wall, still set to last month. He flipped the page and realized, to his shock, that Ellie and Devon's wedding would be happening next weekend. After coming so close to helping Ellie have the perfect wedding, he'd let his father get captured by Fulcrum. Chuck set his jaw as he gazed at the circled date. He wasn't going to let Ellie down like this. And he wouldn't let his father be in danger any longer.

Saving his father would start with Casey's tip. He listened closely as the NSA agent explained what he had been working on while Chuck and Sarah had been in the safe house.

"Best as we can tell, Fulcrum's got some kind of underground base out in the desert. That's where they've got their Intersect, now that Meadow Branch isn't an option anymore." Casey gave them a small smirk, acknowledging what the three of them had done on their mission to the suburbs. But his smirk faded and his voice sounded grumpy as he continued. "We don't know where it is exactly-satellite imaging has only narrowed it down to a five-mile area."

"Let me see the satellite maps," Chuck said, holding out his hand. "Perhaps the Intersect has something."

Casey nodded and handed them over. "Orion's being held at the base, probably working on fixin' Fulcrum's Intersect. We don't know how cooperative he's been."

Chuck exchanged looks with Sarah but didn't argue with Casey. There wasn't time to speculate on whether his father was helping Fulcrum or not, even though Chuck couldn't believe that Stephen Bartowski would help terrorists. Especially ones that had allied themselves with his enemy Ted Roark.

Leaning over the maps, Chuck concentrated as hard as he could, examining every inch of the photos. He sighed as nothing happened-no flashes, no intel. What could he do now? If they searched the whole area, it'd take days. They needed someplace to start looking.

Suddenly, he remembered the keypad at Roark Instruments, the one that he had willed himself to flash on at his father's encouragement. Perhaps he could do it again. This would be a bit harder to focus on, but if he could do this . . .

He grabbed a grease pencil and went over the maps, circling anything he wanted to try flashing on. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Sarah glancing over at him, watching him and probably wondering what he was doing. He gave her a quick smile. "Have an idea."

She nodded and smiled back at him before turning back to her research. Her show of support gave him a boost as he systematically went over each circle. He gazed closely at each area while trying to find the switch that would spark a flash.

On the sixth circle, he got something off a scattered collection of structures he couldn't quite identify until the flash.

_Dancing popcorn-the mushroom cloud from an atomic explosion-the Intersect room-a sign that said Starbright Drive-in-a computer motherboard-a glowing cube-dancing popcorn_

Chuck breathed hard as he slowly opened his eyes. Both Sarah and Casey were staring at him. "Chuck? Did you flash?" Sarah asked, sounding surprised.

He nodded. "Yeah-my dad showed me a little trick with the Intersect." He pushed the map to the middle of the table and pointed to the spot he had flashed on. "This, right here? It's a drive-in movie theater. I think the Fulcrum base is underneath the theater." He paused and grinned. "Just like in _Spies Like Us_."

Sarah gave him a blank look and Casey grunted. "You really think Fulcrum would be dumb enough to imitate some movie?"

"No, I was just saying-whatever," Chuck said, choosing to forgo the film trivia and focus on the mission. "We should look there."

"It's a place to start," Sarah said. "And it's well-positioned. Look how close it is to the major roads. If I was going to have a secret base, I'd put it someplace like that." She got up. "I'll start gathering what we need for infiltrating the base."

"I'm going to narrow the satellite imaging, try to get more info about the surrounding area," Chuck said. "Do a thermal reading, too. If there's an underground base, there's got to be a lot of heat getting thrown off that shouldn't be there."

Casey shrugged. "I'll call it in." He turned towards the video monitors.

Chuck nodded, then paused as a thought occurred to him. Something he should have asked about before now. "Casey? Did you tell Director Graham and General Beckman that Orion is my father?"

"Couldn't be helped, Bartowski," Casey said, looking at him.

He frowned but nodded. "I understand, Casey," he said. "How did they take it?"

"About like you expect," Casey said. "Shock at the connection between you two and royally pissed that they didn't know about it. Because they couldn't exploit the fact that you're Orion's son and the Intersect."

Chuck let out a soft snort. "Yeah, I hear you."

Casey grunted, in a faintly approving manner, before he brought up the video feed to Beckman and Graham's offices.

Within an hour, they had detailed maps of the area surrounding the Starbright Drive-in, approval to infiltrate the possible base and a strike team to support them. They had also learned that they needed to move fast: increased traffic had been noticed towards the drive-in. There wasn't a moment to waste.

The rendezvous point was a truck stop ten miles away from the drive-in. Chuck felt edgy as he listened to Casey and Sarah instruct the strike team. He knew that preparation was key for any operation, but he wanted to be moving. The sooner they started, the sooner they could have his father back.

Sarah walked over to him as the briefing concluded and everyone scattered to the vans. She reached out and took his hand. He squeezed it tightly. "Are we all set?" he asked her, knowing that they were but needing the reassurance.

She smiled softly at him. "Yeah. Everyone knows what they're doing." She looked at him, growing serious. "If we're right and this is Fulcrum's base and if your dad is there, we'll find him, Chuck. We won't leave without him."

He gazed at her. "Yeah?"

"Yeah," she said, nodding. "I know that's a lot of ifs, but I think you found it."

"Here's hoping," he said. He saw Casey look over at them as he climbed into the van and Chuck took a breath. "How about a kiss for luck?" he asked Sarah, giving her a small smile.

"I can manage that," she said with a grin, leaning up and kissing his cheek.

"That's it?"

Her grin morphed into a smile that was downright impish. "You'll get something better later. Come on, it's time to move." She tugged on his hand and lead him over the van, climbing into the back. Chuck followed her and took a seat next to her. Sarah nodded to Casey and he grunted before starting up the van.

Chuck took a few deep breaths. He had been nervous while they were waiting. But now that they were on their way, what he was feeling was approaching full terror. His bantering conversation with Sarah had helped a little, but even with her good-luck kiss and her hand in his, he couldn't stop his mind from coming up with a hundred different outcomes, all bad. He'd been on dozens of missions up to this point, but no mission had ever felt as important as this one.

If he was right, in a few short hours they'd hopefully have his father rescued. Fulcrum would lose their best chance at creating their own Intersect and Stephen would be able to attend his only daughter's wedding. But only if Chuck was right.

Turning his head to look out the window at the darkened landscape, Chuck concentrated on his breathing, trying to calm down and find some balance as they drove towards the Starbright Drive-In.

XXX

Fulcrum might have plenty of terrorists, but apparently they weren't imaginative people. When they arrived at the Starbright Drive-in, it didn't take Chuck long to spot the entrance to the hidden base. Thanks to the thermal mapping he had done, the dilapidated-looking snack stand was the most likely entrance to the base. He felt encouraged when inside the building, a large metal hatch revealed a ladder that disappeared into the darkness.

As silently as possible, Chuck and Sarah lead half the strike team into the base, with Casey bringing up the rear. The rest of the team would wait on the surface and cover the exit until they were ready to leave.

Without any maps and little data, they were going into the base almost blind. Chuck gripped his flashlight and his gun, trying to stay calm and focused. Although he'd prefer using a tranq gun, he knew these weren't the right conditions for such a weapon. He just hoped he wouldn't have to shoot anyone-and he was thankful that Sarah was a better shot and quicker to the trigger than he was. Fortunately, as they moved through the corridors, they encountered little resistance from Fulcrum. Chuck wasn't about to look that gift horse in the mouth.

Chuck had a rough idea of where his father might be, based on a large heat signature in the center of the complex. That much heat could be a lot of people or a lot of electronics equipment. When they started getting close to the possible location, it was all he could do not to let his gun and flashlight tremble. If he was wrong, he had brought several agents into an enemy base without any guarantees that they would find their target. It was incredibly risky. He hoped the risks would be rewarded.

Sarah paused at a doorway, glancing at him. She reached out and rested her hand on his arm for a moment, then nodded to the door.

He took a deep breath, savoring her support before he looked at the door. The large electronic lock was a good sign that they were at the right place. He quickly holstered his gun and put his flashlight in his mouth, putting extra light on the lock as he pulled out an electronic lockpick and started working on unlocking the door.

Behind him, he could vaguely sense Sarah silently directing the team to do something. He focused on the lock, wishing there was a way to do this faster. Tangentially, he thought about how he could improve the device as he waited for it to work.

Finally, finally, the keypad flashed green and there was a soft click as the lock disengaged. He straightened up, putting away the lockpick and taking the flashlight out of his mouth. Chuck looked over his shoulder at Sarah, who nodded at him and lifted her gun. They were now alone; Chuck guessed that Sarah had sent Casey and the team to reconnoiter.

He shouldn't delay. Fulcrum could be showing up at any moment and they didn't even know if this was the right room. So he swallowed and pushed open the door, stepping inside a dimly-lit room.

It was a large, cavernous space. The ceiling receded into the darkness and the tall shelves that lined the walls made him think of the warehouse from Raiders of the Lost Ark. In the center of the room was a long table and a beat-up desk, covered in electronics, a soldering iron and other tools. His attention was immediately drawn to a glowing cube about the size of a basketball. It was spinning inside some kind of protective cylinder, throwing a gentle light around the workspace. But the room was otherwise so dark that it took him a moment to notice who else was in the room.

"Dad!" he said, hurrying over to Stephen. His father was hunched over a computer, pecking away at the keyboard while juggling a large printout and two pencils. He apparently hadn't noticed anyone had come into the room.

Chuck shook Stephen's shoulder, pulling him out of his fog. "Dad, come on, we're going."

Stephen blinked. "Chuck?" Then his eyes widened and he got up, folding up his printouts. "Yes, time to go!" He approached the worktable and lifted the cylinder up. "Grab that blanket from there," Stephen said, pointing towards a cot in the corner.

"Right," Chuck said, glancing over at Sarah who was guarding the door. "We've got to move." He snatched up the blanket and put it down for his father.

"One second . . ." Stephen said, carefully lifting up the cube and setting it on the blanket. He wrapped the blanket around the item, cradling it like a swaddled baby.

"Sarah, are we clear?" Chuck said, leading his father over towards the door.

She nodded. "Yeah, looks good." She spoke into her watch's microphone. "We have Orion. Proceeding to the exit now."

"Copy," came Casey's voice through Chuck's earpiece. "Move fast, Fulcrum's woken up."

Chuck quickly pulled his gun from its holster and turned his flashlight back on. "I'll go first. Dad, follow me."

Stephen looked equal parts horrified and shocked. "Chuck, you have a gun."

"I'm a spy, Dad-of course I have a gun," he said absent-mindedly as he checked the corridor. He didn't quite know what his father was expecting, but this definitely wasn't the time to get into that discussion. Not when the sound of gunshots were starting to become louder.

"Go, Chuck-I'll be right behind you," Sarah said.

He nodded and stepped out into the corridor, then gestured to his father. "Let's go."

His father eased out into the hallway, looking nervous. Chuck gave his best encouraging smile to Stephen and started hurrying, his mind focused on getting his father out of here.

The three of them moved through the maze of corridors, getting closer and closer to the exit. He could still hear fighting, but it was getting fainter. Chuck felt his spirits rise when he realized they only had a few hundred feet to go. His father had picked up his pace, getting ahead of Chuck. He thought about saying something, but instead he took a few extra steps, opening up a bigger gap between himself and Sarah. Just as he walked past a set of double doors, there was a loud boom and everything started shaking.

He was nearly knocked off his feet but managed to keep his balance. The hallway lights flickered off and Chuck coughed, fighting to breathe through a cloud of dust. He swept his flashlight around and found his father almost immediately.

"Dad!" Chuck yelled through the ringing in his ears. "Are you okay?"

His father coughed but gave him a thumbs-up. Chuck nodded, then looked around for Sarah. Just behind them, part of the corridor had buckled inward and the doors were blown off their hinges. It might be possible to get past the blockage, but it would take time. He didn't have time-but Sarah was on the other side.

"Sarah!" he shouted, feeling a stab of worry. Was she all right? What if she was hurt? "Sarah!"

His hearing was starting to return and he could hear movement. Then there was a flash of light and he saw Sarah's face through a gap in the debris. The space was only big enough for him to see her dirt-smudged face.

"Sarah," he said, hearing the relief in his voice. "Are you okay?"

She nodded and rubbed her eyes. "I'm fine, just a little shaken up," she said. "How are you?"

"We're both fine," Chuck said, glancing back at Stephen before returning his attention to Sarah. "How are you going to get out?"

"I'll double back and meet up with Casey. There's got to be another way out of here-they must have tapped our comms and knew we were going this way." She coughed. "Get your father out."

Chuck swallowed. "You're really okay?"

Sarah gave him a quick smile. "I'm okay. I wish I had given you a real kiss now, if this is all the luck a cheek kiss gets me."

If she was joking with him, she was okay or she was hurt and trying to reassure him. Either way, he couldn't get to her and he needed to get his father to safety. And Sarah knew that just as well as he did. Even though he wanted to drop everything and rescue her, he couldn't. He suddenly had a better understanding for how Sarah had acted in the past, trying to protect him in spite of logic and sense.

"Right," he said, trying to get himself under control. "I'll get Dad out of here and we'll wait in the van."

"No, you'll get the hell out of here," Sarah said, slipping into Agent Walker mode. "We'll be okay. You have to take care of your dad. Now go." She gave him one last look then turned away. He could hear the sound of her boots against the floor for a moment before they faded away.

He pushed down the urge to say her name again and turned towards his father. "Come on, Dad," he said, lifting his gun and flashlight and moving towards the exit.

XXX

Once he had his father inside the van, one that had been hidden apart from the other vehicles, he immediately spoke into his watch. "I've got Orion ready to leave. What's your status?"

The wait for a reply felt like forever. But then there was a crackle and Casey spoke, his voice low and urgent. "Nearly out-get going, Bartowski."

"Casey-"

Sarah's voice broke in. "Chuck, we're out. Go!"

He wasn't sure if he should believe her, but he knew he couldn't question them further. Slamming the van's gear shift into drive, he pressed his foot hard against the accelerator. He glanced over, making sure his father was settled, then lifted his head as he heard something over the comms.

"We're good, Chuck. We're in one of the other vans-we'll meet you back at the office."

Chuck let out a sigh of relief at the sound of Sarah's voice. "That's good news. I'll see you later."

"Understood," Casey said. "Signing off-we're gonna be out of range soon."

"Gotcha." He pulled the earwig out, sliding it into the pocket of his pants. Easing off the accelerator, he looked at Stephen.

"Dad? His father was still holding the cube close, like he was guarding it with his life. When his father didn't react, Chuck spoke again. "Dad? Are you okay?"

"What?" Stephen looked up, his expression startled. "Did you say something?"

"I just want to know if you're okay. You're not hurt, are you?" Chuck asked, glancing over at his father as he drove.

Stephen didn't look like he had any physical injuries from the explosion. He did look exhausted, like he had been kept working for hours without end, but honestly that wasn't that different from how he used to look when he got wrapped up in some project.

"Oh-I'm fine." He ran a hand over his hair and turned to face Chuck. "So . . . so you're really a spy."

There was something indescribable in his father's voice. He could hear so many different emotions: anger, regret, worry, confusion, surprise and maybe even a little bit of pride. Chuck wasn't sure what to say. He could only nod.

"Why? You-you had the best education, the opportunity to work for a major software company and . . . You had your whole life ahead of you, Chuck. Why would you throw it away like this?"

"I didn't throw my life away," Chuck said, hearing the frustration in his voice. How could Stephen think he was wasting his opportunities when he was doing something so important?

He could feel his father's eyes on him. "I just thought you had the Intersect. That you were only a glorified analyst. But you're not. You were always so peaceful, Chuck," his father said. "So kind. How can you do this?"

"I'm still all those things," Chuck said. "I am, Dad. I swear it."

Stephen shook his head. "This isn't what I wanted for you."

"Then what did you want for me, Dad?" Chuck asked, trying not to sound as angry and annoyed as he felt. His father had spent the bulk of Chuck's life not being there, yet now he wanted to condemn him for his choices.

His father shifted in his seat. "I didn't want you to work for the government. To see how dark the world could be." Stephen's voice lowered and Chuck could barely hear his next sentence. "I didn't want you to make the same mistakes I made."

What could he say to that? He could only guess what his father had done that he now considered mistakes. Working for the CIA? Creating the Intersect? Or was it something more personal, like leaving his family?

Chuck swallowed. Searching for Stephen had been about Ellie, he'd always said. He wanted to give his sister some closure. He hadn't wanted to admit that he had so many questions for their dad. Just like his problems with Sarah, he was afraid of finding out the answers. He doubted that the outcome of questioning his dad would go as well as it had with Sarah, but he had to try. He couldn't keep avoiding the questions, not when this might be his only chance to ask them.

"Dad?" He waited until he sensed that he had Stephen's attention. "What mistakes are you talking about?"

Stephen huffed out a laugh. "Where to start?" he said rhetorically. "I'm sure you have an opinion on my mistakes."

"Yeah, you could say that," Chuck agreed. "But I want to know what mistakes you didn't want me to make."

"Trusting the government for one thing," Stephen said, his voice cold. "Thinking that they're looking out for you, that they consider your best interests. How if the Intersect stops working, they'd have anything to do with you."

Hearing his father talk like this was so jarring, considering that his memories were of an absent-minded, kind-hearted man. But at least Chuck knew where he was coming from.

"I don't trust them," Chuck said slowly. "Well, actually, trust isn't the word. I just know that they have their own priorities and if they happen to overlap with mine, then everything's good. But when they don't, then it's me who gets the short end of the stick."

His father nodded slowly. "That's about right." He looked at Chuck. "Have they talked to you about getting a new version of the Intersect?"

Chuck changed lanes and checked his mirrors, realizing he should have been watching for anyone following them. The task gave him a few moments to collect his thoughts. He had so many questions about the Intersect and his father could answer them. But there was also the questions about why his father had left, why he hadn't contacted Ellie or himself. He'd rather deal with the personal issues first, but if Stephen wanted to talk shop and discuss the Intersect, they could start there.

"I was supposed to go to D.C. for the Intersect upgrade after I wrapped my mission at Roark Instruments," Chuck said. "Fulcrum capturing you put that off, though."

"They told you that the upgrade was ready?" Stephen snorted. "Typical. I have the most important part with me, yet they think they're ready."

"What do you mean, Dad?" Chuck asked.

"This," Stephen said, holding up the blanket-wrapped object and pulling away the covering. Chuck did his best not to stare at the cube since he was driving at sixty-five miles per hour.

Stephen had a proud smile on his face. "This is the brains of the Intersect. This is what will make the upgrade happen."

"Oh," he said. He couldn't help frowning a little. Stephen seemed so proud of the Intersect, yet so distrustful of how it was used. To him, if you couldn't trust people to use your creation responsibly, maybe the world wasn't ready for it.

"I told the CIA and NSA that the upgrade couldn't go ahead without this cube. That there was still work to be done." Stephen sounded disgusted. "They knew they needed to wait, but they were so excited to have their new version that they didn't listen to my warnings."

"That sounds like the scientists I've worked with," Chuck said. "They've all treated me like a lab rat."

He wanted to trust his father. To believe that his paranoia was well-founded. And even Chuck had to admit that with everything he'd seen, his father might be right. But he wasn't ready to ascribe ill motives to everything done by the CIA.

"Dad? Could we please talk more about the Intersect? Does it have anything to do with-" Chuck paused and took a deep breath. "Is it why you left us? Why you haven't talked to us in years?"

Stephen hesitated. "It . . . it's a lot to take in, Chuck. It's a long story."

"We've got time," Chuck said, not willing to let his father off the hook.

"I-I just-look, I don't want to talk about this while you're driving. It's not safe," Stephen said.

He nearly snorted at yet another attempt to avoid answering his questions. "Dad . . ."

"There's an exit coming up. We could stop and get some coffee," his father said.

Stephen was trying to meet him halfway. As much as he appreciated the effort, he wasn't sure if his father could come clean with him. But he wanted to give his dad the benefit of the doubt. So Chuck nodded and started looking for the exit.

XXX

Of all the places Chuck thought he'd have a soul-searching conversation with his father, he didn't picture it happening at a brightly-lit truck stop restaurant. But as long as he got some answers, he could care less about the location.

He closed up his phone after sending Sarah and Casey a text message. His father looked at him over the top of his menu, his expression curious.

"Letting my team know we'd be getting back later," Chuck said, slipping his phone back into his pocket.

His father nodded. "You're close to them? You work well together?"

"Yeah, we do," Chuck said, shifting a little in surprise at his father's curiosity. "Casey's a bit gruff, but you can depend on him. And Sarah . . ." He could feel himself blushing.

"Ahhh," Stephen said, smiling at Chuck as he lowered his menu. "You and Sarah are-you're involved?"

He nodded, suddenly feeling shy. "Yeah, we are."

The waitress saved him from further embarrassment by coming over to their table, a pot of coffee in her hand. She filled their mugs and pulled out her order pad. "What can I getcha?"

"Scrambled eggs and wheat toast, please," Chuck said, giving the waitress as much of a smile as he could manage.

"I'll have the same," Stephen said, setting aside his menu.

"Be right up," she said with a nod before heading towards the kitchen.

Chuck took a sip of his coffee, then winced and started adding sugar to it. Stephen chuckled but added a little sugar to his own mug. They sat there for a few moments, just sipping their coffee. He knew he should be confronting his father, but it had been so long since it had been just him and his dad. He wanted to enjoy this moment before he had to end it.

But all good things must come to an end, as Q put it in the last episode of _Star Trek: The Next Generation_. Chuck shook his head at thinking of that right now, then squared his shoulders. He kept his voice low as he spoke to his father, looking directly at him. "I think we need to start at the beginning. With the Intersect."

Stephen looked at Chuck for a long moment, then nodded. "I began working on the Intersect decades ago. But it didn't really become practical, didn't become a top project for the CIA, until around September 11th."

As his father spoke, Chuck found himself watching him closely, trying to observe any indicators that he was lying or omitting details. He felt slightly queasy for giving his father the same treatment that terrorists and criminals would get, but he wanted to know the truth. Reassuringly, his father didn't seem to be holding back on him.

"The CIA and NSA rushed to implement the Intersect. I don't know why, but they were very eager to get the Intersect into their candidate: you, as it turned out."

"It . . . it's kinda ironic, isn't it? Me getting the Intersect when you were the one who designed it?" Chuck wrapped his hands around his coffee mug, trying not to fidget.

Stephen shrugged. "There's no way of knowing how long you were on the CIA's radar before you were recruited. And I never thought to check their records for you or Ellie. If I had, I would have flagged you for non-recruitment."

"And why's that, Dad?" he asked, pinning his father in place with his eyes. The more he learned, the more questions he had. It seemed that Stephen had a lot of secrets, but getting him to reveal any of them was proving even harder than Chuck had suspected.

"At least you've done well with the Intersect," Stephen said, changing the subject. "I've seen the reports about what you've achieved." He hesitated, but when he spoke again, the pride in his voice was muted but unmistakable. "You've done more with the Intersect than I thought possible."

"I have?" Chuck soaked up the rare feeling of approval.

"You have," Stephen said with a nod. "Knowing that it was you who had the Intersect, not some gung-ho cowboy, made me have a little bit of confidence in the CIA. Since they picked you and not someone who'd use the Intersect for the wrong reasons."

Chuck thought back to his training and the other Project Omaha recruits. How out-of-place he had felt because he was more brainy than brawny. He found himself nodding in agreement.

"But that doesn't change the fact that if you didn't have the Intersect, the CIA would have no use for you. It's only the Intersect that makes you a spy."

What? He frowned, trying to figure out how his father had come to that conclusion.

Stephen leaned forward, resting his arms on the table. "Haven't you thought what might happen if the Intersect starts to affect you? Nobody involved in this project knows what the long-term consequences might be. And if something goes wrong, you think the CIA will take care of you?" He snorted. "Not likely, Chuck. Trust me on that."

"Dad, you're being paranoid," Chuck said, unable to hold back his opinion. "I'm a government employee, with health care and disability insurance and everything. If something happened to me, whether it's getting shot on a mission or the Intersect frying my brain, I would have resources. Not that I want the Intersect to fry my brain."

"You're being naïve, Charles. One way or another, the CIA's going to bury you. Either alive in a bunker or dead in a coffin." Stephen's voice was regretful but decided. "The sooner you figure that out, the sooner you can prepare for the worst."

It was all he could do not to . . . well, he didn't know what he felt like doing. Yelling? Leaving the restaurant? Possibly crying? He didn't know where this attack was coming from. He didn't understand why his father was treating him like this. Like he was just the brain the Intersect was in and nothing more. But he was more than that. He had survived the months of training just like any other spy. He had proven his abilities in the field and shown that he could hold his own. Yes, sometimes he'd felt like the CIA valued him more because of the Intersect, but that wasn't all he brought to the table. He was more than the computer in his brain.

"Is that what you really think of me, Dad?" Chuck leaned forward, trying to keep his voice even and not give away the hurt he was feeling. "That I'm just the Intersect and nothing more?"

Stephen frowned, as if he was realizing what he had said. "I've been working with these people a long time. 'The ends justify the means' is their guiding principle. They're not like you-they don't look at someone and try to find the good in them." His father swallowed. "I was like you before I got involved with the CIA. The last thing I want is for my son to follow in my footsteps."

Chuck took a deep breath. "I'm not, though, Dad. I'm not following in anyone's footsteps." He looked into his father's eyes. "I'm Chuck Bartowski. I work for the CIA. I have the Intersect. But I'm more than that and I always will be."

His father looked doubtful but resigned. "I hope you're right, Chuck."

"Comin' through!"

The voice of their waitress snapped them both out of their bubble. The business of plates of food being set on the table and the check handed over gave Chuck some breathing room. Once the waitress had stepped away, he looked at his father. "I'm not all that hungry. Are you?"

Stephen shook his head and Chuck stood up, snagging the check. "I'll pay and we'll hit the road."

"Wait, Chuck," Stephen said, grabbing Chuck's arm. "Sit down. I don't-I don't want to leave things between us like this."

Chuck looked down at his father. He hesitated, then slowly sat back down. "I don't know how you think we can fix things, Dad. Not after what you said." It was too hard to look directly at Stephen, so he focused his eyes on a point just over Stephen's shoulder.

His father seemed agitated. "You've always been special, Chuck. From the moment you were born. But-but having the Intersect, joining the CIA, that's not good enough for you." Stephen paused. "Are you sure this is what you want?"

To Chuck's surprise, his answer came without any thought required. "Yes, Dad. Some of it, the lying to Ellie and Morgan and the danger, I don't like that at all. But I can do this because I'm the right person for the job. And being a spy has brought me good things, too. So yes, this is what I want. And you're in no position to tell me what I should be doing."

As he spoke, Chuck believed more and more what he was saying. His father hadn't been around for years. As much as Chuck wanted a relationship with his father, Stephen had lost the right to have his opinion be a deciding factor in any decision that Chuck made. Stephen might disapprove of his career, but Chuck knew that he was content, even happy, being a spy. Even with all the darkness and danger, it was something he could do that was good.

Stephen nodded slowly. "All right, then, Chuck. I . . . I'm sorry. I'm not happy, but you're right-it's not up to me."

It was an uneasy truce, but a truce nonetheless. Chuck nodded to his father. "Okay, Dad. Are you ready to go?"

"Yeah," Stephen said, standing up. Chuck stood and headed towards the cashier's desk, feeling a multitude of emotions. But most of all, he wished Sarah was here.

XXX

The drive back to his apartment in Glendale was quiet. Only a few pleasantries were exchanged between them on the drive; otherwise Stephen dozed while Chuck drove. With extreme effort, Chuck did his best to not think about what was going on with his father. He was tired, sore and worried. Right now, he wouldn't be able to look at this situation logically. He'd get some sleep and start over in the morning.

When they arrived, Chuck lead Stephen up to his apartment and opened the door for them. Only after he closed the door and turned around did he realize he had company.

Sarah was standing in the middle of his living room, her eyes sleepy and her hair damp. She was wearing a pair of yoga pants and a t-shirt. He guessed she had taken a shower when she had gotten back, but that didn't explain why she was in his apartment.

She smiled at them. "Hi, Chuck. Mr. Bartowski, how are you doing?"

Stephen nodded, shuffling his feet. "Good. Sarah, right?"

"That's right," she said.

"Are you okay?" Chuck asked, walking over to her to get a better look. There was a small scrape on her temple, but otherwise he didn't see any injuries.

"A few bruises, but nothing too serious," she said, taking his hand. "I wanted to stop by and make sure you were okay. And . . . and if you wanted, to invite you to stay with me so your dad could sleep in a real bed instead of that lumpy cot he had been using at the base."

Chuck boggled at Sarah until he realized how that must look to his father. He schooled his expression, trying to act natural. He'd never stayed in her apartment. Actually, he'd never stayed in her room, period. In the villa, she'd always come to his room. And suddenly, after this day, all he wanted was to be alone with her and hold her.

When she nibbled on her lower lip, revealing her nervousness at his silence, he knew he had to speak. "That sounds great, Sarah."

Her smile was like the sun coming up. "Okay. I'll just let you get your dad settled, then." She quickly squeezed his hand and nodded to Stephen before slipping out of the apartment.

Stephen watched Sarah go, then looked at Chuck. "You two seem serious."

He wasn't really ready to talk to his father about his relationship, so he just nodded and started moving around the apartment. "The sheets on my bed should be fine, but if you want to change them there's a linen closet in the bathroom with an extra set. There's not much food in the fridge, but there's a magnet with the local pizza place's number, you could call for a pizza-"

"Chuck," Stephen interrupted him. "I'll be fine. I'm just going to sleep. And I think you need that, too."

Swallowing, Chuck nodded. "Yeah. Okay." He went into his bedroom and grabbed some clothes, then walked back into the living room. "Sarah's apartment is 604, just be two doors down if you need me. I . . . I guess I'll see you in the morning."

He had some vague misgivings about leaving his father alone, especially after the fight they had. What was to stop Stephen from leaving, from vanishing yet again? And this time, it wouldn't just be his dad leaving him and leaving Ellie; it would be Orion escaping from the CIA, too.

Maybe it was time to pull out the only weapon he had left: guilt. "Dad? We . . . there's a bunch of wedding activities going on this weekend for Ellie and Devon. I'm sure she could use our help."

Would it be enough, stressing Ellie and her wedding? Chuck waited in suspense until his father slowly nodded.

"Okay." Stephen looked at him and tried to smile. "I don't know what I can do, but . . . but it's for Ellie."

Now there was a definite lump in his throat. Somehow he managed to speak through it. "Yeah. It's for Ellie."

A look exchanged between them, one that said they would set aside their issues for the sake of the sister and daughter they loved. With that settled, Chuck turned and walked out towards Sarah's apartment.

When she opened the door, she took one look at him and pulled him inside before wrapping her arms around him. Chuck held on tightly, almost clinging to her. He buried his face against her neck and breathed deeply, trying to find some kind of peace.

Her hand softly stroked his hair. "Are you okay?" she asked.

"I . . ." He let his voice trail off as he realized he didn't know where to start. If he started talking about his father, it might take him all night.

Sarah pulled back enough to look at his face. She gave him a small, encouraging smile. "Why don't you change for bed and we can talk about . . . about whatever you want to talk about?"

"That sounds . . . that sounds like just what I need," he said softly, gazing at her for a moment before he leaned in and kissed her.

Kissing Sarah had always been wonderful. But now, after all they'd been through, it felt like something more. Like it was what kept him whole. Kept him Chuck.

She kissed him back, gently nuzzling him. "I'll get you something to eat while you change. Which you need to do."

He couldn't help a choked laugh. "Kinda smelly right now, huh?"

"Yep," she said, smiling up at him. She kissed his cheek and went over to the kitchen. He watched her for a moment, then turned and stepped into her bedroom.

It was simple: tidy, functional, but with small touches that made him think of Sarah. There was a flowering plant and a goldfish bowl, taking up space on a table near a window. A set of throwing knives sat next to a sharpening stone on her dresser. He sighed softly, feeling calmer and more relaxed than he had in hours.

After washing the dirt and sweat off and changing into a t-shirt and boxers, he wasn't quite sure what to do. Hesitantly, he sat on the edge of her bed, feeling a bit nervous about wrinkling the fluffy white duvet. But when Sarah walked in with a plate and a glass, he forgot about everything but her.

Sarah smiled and sat next to him. "Just some juice and a sandwich, but I thought you probably wanted something light," she said, holding the food out to him.

Just looking at the sandwich made him ravenous, so he quickly devoured it, in-between large swallows of the orange juice. When he finished, he looked at her sheepishly. "Thank you. And sorry about eating like a pig."

She laughed softly. "It's okay." She took the plate and glass and set them on the nightstand. When she turned back to him, she gazed at him for a few moments, then reached out and brushed her hand over his hair. "What's going on, Chuck?"

He leaned into her hand, moving closer to her. She curled up against him, warm and soft and solid and everything he needed. So it was easy to tell her everything. Easy to share his thoughts and feelings.

This was what he wanted every day. He wanted to come home with Sarah, talk to her about whatever was bothering him. And then he wanted to tell her he loved her and fall asleep with her. He wanted to make this permanent.

Permanent like marriage.

End, Chapter 13


	14. Chapter 14

As she took in her surroundings, Sarah realized that Ellie and Devon's wedding was clearly a bigger affair than she had realized. The church where they would be married tomorrow wasn't showy or over the top, but it had a quiet, simple elegance that was definitely reminded her of Chuck's sister and her fiancé. At this moment, though, the church was buzzing with activity, thanks to the wedding rehearsal currently in progress. The dozen members of the wedding party were joined by people who were responsible for various elements like the flowers and the music.

Sarah sighed a little. An event that would take thirty minutes, according to Ellie, had already stretched to over forty minutes. And they hadn't even had a full run-through yet, because so far nothing had satisfied the mother of the groom.

Ellie had mentioned at the bridesmaid dress fittings that her future mother-in-law was a force of nature. Watching Honey Woodcomb bustle around, exerting her influence whenever and wherever she could, made Sarah respect Ellie's powers of understatement.

She shifted on her feet, wishing she had chosen different heels. Standing in one place in heels usually guaranteed aching feet for her, no matter how wonderful her shoes were.

"Don't move, blonde!"

Sarah nearly jumped at the sound of Honey's loud, piercing voice. Dozens of eyes turned to look at her, making her feel very conspicuous. "Um, sorry?" she said hesitantly.

"If you move around like that during the wedding, you'll distract everyone from watching Devon and Ellie. And you wouldn't want that, would you?"

A laugh bubbled up inside her at the absurdity of Honey's logic, but it didn't seem likely that Mrs. Woodcomb would accept a bridesmaid who wasn't taking this seriously. "No, Mrs. Woodcomb," Sarah said demurely.

"Good!" Honey said, giving her a tight smile. She turned back to Ellie, Devon and the minister and resumed their quiet conversation.

Chuck, who was standing opposite from her, was barely holding back his snorts of laughter. He grinned widely at her, an expression so infectious that she couldn't help grinning back. Not that it was hard to smile at Chuck, especially when he was looking very dapper in his suit.

The minister clapped his hands. "All right, let's take this from the top, starting from the arrival of the bride at the altar."

Feeling like she needed to be on her best behavior, Sarah did everything she could to look like a proper bridesmaid who was enraptured by the wedding service. On the inside, though, her thoughts were somewhat unsettled.

She had a fuzzy memory of attending a wedding when she was small, but otherwise the only weddings she had attended had been as part of her job. So she didn't know if Ellie and Devon's wedding plans spoke to a happy future, if this big event meant they'd stay married forever. But she was hopeful for the two of them. They seemed very happy together, like they really loved each other-at least, from what she knew about love.

Seeing Ellie prepare for her marriage had been an interesting experience. Partly because it was Chuck's sister, the only real family that Chuck had in his life. But also because it was seeing Ellie, a woman who Sarah wanted to be more like, experience this joy. It made Sarah wonder. If . . . if perhaps a day like this was in her own future.

Having a relationship that might end in marriage was something she'd never anticipated. She assumed she would date, maybe even have a steady relationship, but not the real, honest, open relationship she had with Chuck. But she had come so far from where she was two years ago. Back then, she was going on missions, following the orders of Director Graham. Now . . . she had a life. One that was more than her job and sole loyalty to the CIA. She was making friends, exploring hobbies and she had a boyfriend. It was like she was a normal woman, she thought with a small smile.

It was a change that she was still adjusting to. But it was becoming easier and easier. The time since their stay in the safe house had seen her relationship with Chuck become fuller, deeper. Things that used to seem hard were becoming second nature. Like Chuck staying in her apartment.

It could be argued that she was being practical: Mr. Bartowski was staying in Chuck's place, working on the Intersect upgrade nearly nonstop. In order to keep Stephen off Fulcrum's radar, the Intersect team had been ordered to keep Stephen far away from their offices. It made the most sense for Stephen to stay at Chuck's.

Chuck could have shared the apartment with his father. That was certainly true. But she didn't want that. She had spent four days with Chuck, sleeping in the same bed, sharing the same rooms. Once they got back to Los Angeles, the thought of being apart again, of maintaining the distance she'd enforced when they lived in Rome . . . it wasn't what she wanted. She had denied them so much for so long. And she was ready to make up for the time they had lost.

Before, she would have thought that sharing her space with anyone would have made her edgy and nervous. She had worried that being with Chuck all the time would take away the thrill she felt whenever she saw him. But now, she knew that the thrill could happen when she rolled over in bed and saw him waking up or when he came back from picking up their take-out dinner. It made her feel like a teenager, more than she ever had when she was in fact an actual adolescent. But the fact that she knew Chuck felt the same way made it less daunting-and more fun.

She must have acted sufficiently attentive, because Mrs. Woodcomb didn't say anything else to Sarah during the rest of the rehearsal. Fortunately, and to the delight of her feet, the full run-through was completed with a minimum of corrections from the mother of the groom and the dinner portion of the rehearsal could begin.

Chuck smiled at her as he walked up to her. "You're not used to being the center of attention like that, are you?"

With a laugh, she shook her head. "No, I'm not." Sarah took his arm, enjoying being close to him. "But she should understand that I had been standing in four-inch heels for over a half hour without moving. That's tough for any woman."

"Awww," he said, kissing her temple. "You'll get a foot rub later."

Her surprise and delight must have shown on her face, because Chuck grinned and winked at her. "I'm a man of many talents, you know."

"I didn't know you were holding back on something like foot rubs," she said, unable to stop smiling at him.

"All the time I've spent with Devon lately has introduced me to new ways of managing a girlfriend," Chuck said.

She arched an eyebrow. "Managing a girlfriend?"

His grin faded. "Um . . . I mean, how to make my beautiful, smart, amazing girlfriend happy?"

Sarah laughed softly and kissed his cheek. "That sounds more like you."

"Yeah, I'm not really the smooth type," Chuck said, smiling at her. "Ready for dinner?"

"Definitely," she said, walking with him towards the front doors of the church.

XXX

The first thing she did when she walked into her apartment was kick her shoes off, not caring that she should put them away properly. Then she walked gingerly over to the couch and dropped down on it. "Do you ever get tired of socializing?"

Chuck locked the door before joining her on the couch. "What do you mean?"

"I mean all the talking and standing around," Sarah said, stretching her legs out. "And everyone waiting for someone to make a decision, but nobody does."

With a chuckle, he pulled her feet into his lap. "I had no idea you were an introvert."

"An introvert? Me?"

He shrugged. "Maybe? You just seem to like it better when you're in a small group instead of a big party. And when we were on vacation, the nights that we had dinner with Ellie and Devon or Morgan, you fell asleep a lot faster."

"Hmmm," she said thoughtfully. "Maybe you're right."

Chuck gave her a soft smile and gently rubbed his thumbs against the soles of her feet. "When it comes to you, I feel like an expert and a beginner."

It was all Sarah could do not to moan at the feel of his fingers rubbing her feet. If someone had told her that a foot rub could feel so good, she would have said that person was crazy. But she was the crazy one, obviously.

She felt so good that it took her a moment to reply to Chuck's statement. "An expert and a beginner?"

He looked up from her feet. "I mean, I feel like I know so much about you, but then I find out something new." He smiled at her as he massaged the balls of her feet. "It's exciting."

Sarah smiled back at him. "Yeah, I know what you mean." She shifted around on the couch, settling in to enjoy this foot rub.

Feeling this good when she had all her clothes on should be illegal, she thought idly. She let her eyes drift shut as she enjoyed the sensations of her handsome, funny, caring boyfriend massaging her feet. Her whole body seemed to be relaxing, almost melting.

"Mmmmm," she hummed softly.

"Feel good?" Chuck asked, his voice soft.

She nodded, feeling too lazy to respond, and she heard him chuckle.

"Just you wait, Agent Bartowski," she said. "Turnabout is fair play."

Chuck's hands pressed hard against her feet, going beyond a massage. She opened her eyes to see him gaping at her. Sarah giggled softly. "Surprised you?"

"Um, you could say that," he said, grinning.

Sarah sat up and pulled her feet out of his lap, then shifted to sit next to him. "Thank you for the foot rub. Just what the doctor ordered."

"You can thank Ellie-I spent a lot of time with her textbooks so I could figure out what to do." Chuck draped his arm around her shoulders, holding her close to him.

"That doesn't surprise me," she said, smiling up at him.

He smiled back, raising one shoulder. "I'm a nerd. I've always been big on finding things out."

She nodded, her mind shifting from flirting to work. It was a shame to lose this easy relaxation, but perhaps it would make it easier to broach the subject that they needed to talk about. "Speaking of finding things out . . . have you talked to your father about the Intersect?"

In the week since they had gotten Stephen away from Fulcrum, it was clear that Chuck's relationship with his father was strained. She could understand why, after Chuck had filled her in on his argument with Stephen during their drive from the Fulcrum base. When he had told her, she had felt an unexpected surge of anger at a man she hardly knew. How could Stephen think so little of his son? To believe that it was only the Intersect that made him into a spy . . . it was ridiculous. It was true that Chuck didn't have much experience, yet he'd had the same basic training as other field agents. He might have been given more responsibility than other operatives with his training, but that was thanks to his own abilities as well as the Intersect. And Chuck certainly had lived up to the responsibility he had been given.

From her point of view, Chuck was a good spy and he would get even better. She knew others might see her as biased, but she could be objective enough to judge Chuck and find him satisfactory. The fact that his own father, a man who had seen Chuck grow up, couldn't see the same thing-it was enough to make her lose her temper. To confront Mr. Bartowski and tell him what she saw. But that might cause more harm than good. She hadn't wanted to damage either her relationship with Chuck or his relationship with his father, so she had let Chuck handle his father in his own way.

Chuck took a deep breath. "Well, we've been talking a little. He wanted to find out what I experience when I flash." He paused and frowned. "It's weird-it was like he already knew what I'm going to say, most of the time." Shaking his head, Chuck went on. "He's moving forward with the upgrade. He says that it'll be ready by the time we head to D.C. next week."

Sarah nodded. Between Stephen's capture by Fulcrum and eventual rescue, the need for further fine-tuning, and Ellie's wedding, the Intersect upgrade had been rescheduled for the following week. She was thankful for the delay; she had been concerned about how fast the CIA was pushing this upgrade. In that respect, it was one of the few things she agreed with Stephen on. Hopefully, the extra time that Chuck's father had to work on the upgrade would improve it.

"How are you feeling about the upgrade?" she asked him, looking up at him.

He shrugged. "Okay, I guess? I mean . . . if the CIA wants me to the get the upgrade, I'm getting the upgrade."

"Really?" she asked, feeling a bit surprised at his lack of emotion.

"Really," he said. "That's part of what I signed up for. Literally, in this case. As long as I have the Intersect, anything can happen to me."

She took a deep breath as the full weight of Chuck's words sunk in, reminding her of her last in-person conversation with Graham. Chuck was the property of the government. Although they would hate for it to happen, the CIA would sacrifice the man if it improved the Intersect. Because after all, they still had records on the initial Omaha candidates. If something happened to Chuck, they would take the next person on that list and give them the Intersect. Meanwhile, Chuck would have to deal with the negative consequences.

"So . . . so you're not worried?" she asked, trying to sound as casual as possible. She could feel her emotions bubbling up, so she looked down at her hands instead of at Chuck.

"I wouldn't say that," Chuck said. He rubbed his hand along her arm. "I am, because I don't know what could happen. This upgrade could be amazing or it could backfire." He paused, then spoke quietly as he rubbed her arm a bit more firmly. "Are you worried?"

"A little," she said softly. Hesitantly, she raised her eyes to his face. Even though they had been together for nearly a year now, she felt like they had only recently begun to have a real relationship. And she could only blame herself for that, for holding back and not committing to Chuck fully until recently. She felt a wave of regret and worry as she looked at him.

Chuck frowned a little and lifted his hand, stroking her hair. "Hey, no lip nibbling."

"What?" she asked, looking at him curiously.

"When you get nervous or worried, you bite on your lower lip," Chuck said, moving his hand to brush his thumb against her lip. "But I don't want you to worry."

"Chuck, of course I'm going to worry," she said. "I worried during the last upgrade, and when you actually got the Intersect in the first place-I had knots in my stomach." She pulled away so she could face him.

"Okay, okay," he said, holding his hands up. "We're both worried. But freaking out isn't gonna help us." He rested his hands on her shoulders. "We've got three days before we fly to D.C. Tomorrow is going to be tied up with Ellie's wedding, but after that, you and me and my dad, we'll sit down and talk about the upgrade."

"And you think that will help?" she asked, hearing her voice waver slightly.

"It can't hurt. If we know more, at least we can stop worrying about what we don't know." Chuck gazed at her, his eyes soft and supportive. "I can't make any promises, Sarah. I'm going to get the Intersect 2.0 and I can't tell you it's all going to work out. But I can tell you this: I'm not going to give up without a fight."

Sarah looked at him, trying to keep herself under control. But then she tossed that idea out the window and wrapped her arms around him, holding him tightly. He seemed to be holding on just as hard as she was. She squeezed her eyes shut, taking a few deep breaths. There was still more she wanted to talk to him about, so she had to calm down.

As she pulled back, she rubbed her hand over her face, making sure that no tears had leaked out. She looked at him and tried to smile. "Yeah?"

He nodded, his expression serious. "We're together in this, you know. You and me."

Before Chuck, the only time she would have heard those words were on a mission. Not that it was likely she would, because telling someone you were in something together implied more than a fleeting work assignment. They meant trust and support and steadfastness-all the things that she used to think the CIA gave her. But it didn't. It was from Chuck that she got those qualities and more. And she realized that what he said was true. They were in this together, because that way they were stronger and better.

She had spent her whole life standing on her own two feet and she was grateful for that. Grateful that she could take care of herself, that she had created a life for herself. But now . . . she had someone to lean on when she wanted or needed that. They both did. And that didn't make either of them weak or vulnerable. It made them stronger.

A real smile bloomed on her face. Chuck's eyes lost that worried look, his forehead smoothing. "Better?" he asked, stroking her hair again.

Sarah nodded, her smile still on her face. "Better."

XXX

Between the two of them, Chuck was the one more likely to let his nerves turn him into a wreck. Or, in his words, "freak out." But on the morning of Ellie's wedding, it was Sarah who felt ready to lose it.

They had overslept, leading to the decision for Chuck to go back to his apartment to shower. As she stepped into her own shower, Sarah felt distracted, her head full of thoughts about the wedding, the Intersect, and the nation's terrorism threat level. Plus, she was pretty sure she had gained a few pounds over the last two weeks, thanks to letting her exercise routine slip a little. Given how close-fitting her dress was, she was trying to prepare herself for Honey's reaction to a bridesmaid bursting the seams of her dress.

Still, that shouldn't have been enough to cause her to mistake conditioner for shampoo, resulting in hair that still felt greasy even after she had rinsed and shampooed it correctly. And it was ridiculous that she cut her leg shaving, since she had never done that before. Worst of all, when she finally escaped the shower and looked in the mirror, she saw a small red pimple on her chin.

It was clear: she was going to ruin Ellie's wedding. Unfortunately, when she told that to Chuck, he didn't agree.

Laughing, he pulled her into his apartment. "And just how are you going to ruin my sister's wedding?"

"I'm a mess," she said, failing to resist running her hands through her hair, which was the last thing it needed. "Everyone's going to be looking at the bridesmaid and not the bride."

"That was a risk," Chuck said, his voice sober as his eyes sparkled. "They'll be looking at you, but not because you're a mess. But because-and don't tell El I said this or I'll deny it-you'll be the most beautiful woman in the church today."

She rolled her eyes. "I just might tell her, to get you back for laughing at me."

Chuck kissed her forehead. "You wouldn't do that to me. Besides, there's 'My sister is beautiful' and 'My girlfriend is beautiful' differences at work here. It's going to be okay, Sarah."

Sarah sighed and looked at him. "I'm acting ridiculous, I know. I'm just . . . nervous. I've never been a bridesmaid before. Not for real."

"You're going to do great," he said, rubbing her arms. "And I'm sure once you're with Ellie and everyone one else, they'll help you camouflage these non-existent flaws you see."

Her mouth quirked a little. "Non-existent?"

"To me, you are always perfect," he said with a grin. But even though he was joking, Sarah knew that he actually meant that. And his confidence, his certainty, made her worries drain away.

She gave him a small smile. "Thank you."

He kissed her quickly. "No thanks necessary. However, I think it's about time we hit the road."

Nodding, she looked around his apartment curiously. "Where's your dad?"

"Devon picked him up about a half hour ago," Chuck said. "They're getting breakfast together. If I didn't already know that Devon really is Captain Awesome, that was proof."

"That nickname drives Ellie nuts," Sarah said, smiling up at him.

"I know," Chuck said. "But it doesn't bother Devon, so I keep using it. Plus, it's true." He grinned at her. "Want to carpool together?"

Ellie and Devon had booked two suites in a hotel near the church, where the bridal party would prepare for the wedding. The hotel would also be hosting the reception after the wedding. Sarah nodded. "I'd like that."

Chuck grinned. "Okay, I need five minutes." And with that, he turned and scampered back into his bedroom.

Sarah looked around. She had rarely been in Chuck's apartment since they moved to L.A. First because they were going through their rough patch and then because he had been spending so much time with her. So this gave her a rare chance to do some snooping. Not snooping, she corrected herself as she ran her eyes over his bookshelves. Just a chance to explore- _To Do Before I Do_?

Her curiosity quirked, Sarah pulled the book off the shelf. Its cover was one step up from the romance novels you saw in airport bookstores. The spine showed definite signs of use, and when she opened it she saw a multitude of Post-Its stuck throughout the book, each slip covered in Chuck's distinctive handwriting.

Staring down at the book, she felt her hands go clammy. This book was something you bought when you were dating someone. When it was serious. When you were thinking about marriage. She gasped softly as she realized what this meant.

Chuck wanted to marry her.

Those five words were enough to shut down her brain. All she could think was that he wanted to marry her. Her, Sarah Walker. The Spy Barbie that had become a real woman thanks in part to his example, the woman who was more than a spy.

The sound of Chuck's footsteps made her quickly close the book and shove it back on the bookshelf before turning to face him. It took all her training to smile and respond when he asked if she was ready to go. And part of her felt guilty for doing that, but if there ever was a situation that called for being a spy, this was it.

Because she wasn't ready to tell Chuck that she knew . . . what?

Perhaps she was assuming too much. Chuck was a planner; he loved making lists and doing research and being prepared. Getting a book about marriage and reading it cover-to-cover was so Chuck. But that didn't mean he was ready to ask her about making a lifetime commitment. And if she knew him at all, she knew that he'd want to do some kind of elaborate, romantic proposal. And that would take him time to figure out. Time that she could use to figure out what in the world she was feeling right now.

Walking with Chuck out to his car, she gave her head a small shake. Today was about Ellie and Devon. She still didn't feel like she knew much about being a bridesmaid, but it did seem clear that she needed to be focused on the bride today. Thinking about Chuck and herself and getting married could wait.

"Everything okay?" Chuck asked her as he opened the car door. "You seem a million miles away."

She looked at him and smiled at him. "I'm fine. Just trying to remember everything Honey told us bridesmaids at the rehearsal."

Chuck laughed. "I'm glad Devon's dad isn't such a task master. Well, except for when it came to the bachelor party."

Sarah listened as Chuck recounted what had happened during Devon's bachelor party three nights before, laughing and smiling as he talked. She did her best to push aside what she had learned, to put it in an iron box at the back of her mind. But she knew no box would hold those thoughts and feelings for very long.

XXX

When they arrived at the hotel, the suite holding the female members of the wedding was controlled chaos. Ellie took one look at Sarah and laughed. "Oh, sweetie. Did my brother distract you too much?"

Sarah felt her cheeks go pink with embarrassment. "It wasn't Chuck's fault. I just couldn't concentrate when I was getting ready."

Ellie smiled and hugged her. "Don't worry, Sarah. The hairstylist can work on your hair after I'm ready, and Liz is a whiz with makeup." She gestured towards the maid of honor, who smiled encouragingly at Sarah.

Taking a deep breath, Sarah smiled at them. "Thanks. Let's get to work."

Like something out of a movie, the next two hours passed in a blur of preparations. At the end of it, Sarah was in her dress, which still fit thankfully. Her hair had been styled into loose, shiny waves and all evidence of skin blemishes had been smoothed away. She felt relieved that everything had worked out, some of her nerves fading away.

As they waited for the limo to pull up and ferry them to the church, Sarah looked at Ellie. "How are you doing?"

"I'm good," Ellie said, smoothing her dress down as she smiled. "I thought I'd be nervous, but I'm not."

"Really?" Sarah asked, glancing at the older woman. "Not at all?"

"Nope," she said. "I love Devon and I want to marry him. This is right, so . . . so what's there to be nervous about?"

Sarah looked at Ellie, who radiated a quiet confidence. In her wedding gown and veil, a soft smile on her face, she was the perfect bride. Sarah couldn't help smiling back. "Nothing, then, I guess," she said.

The limo pulled up at that moment, ending their conversation. But Sarah found her mind returning to Ellie's words, through the car ride to the church and during the final preparations in one of the church's waiting rooms. About when something was right, there was nothing to be nervous about.

A knock sounded on the door. Sarah was the closest, so she quickly opened the door. She smiled when she saw Chuck. "Hi."

He smiled brightly at her. "Hi, yourself." He ran his eyes over her, his expression growing dazed. "Wow."

"Thanks," she said, reaching out to adjust his bow tie. "Wow, yourself." His suit was a bit larger than she liked, since Chuck always thought he needed a suit one size larger than he really did. But he still looked very handsome.

"I-I came to see Ellie." He swallowed and shook his head. "You are just too beautiful."

Before she could respond, Honey interrupted. "It's bad luck for anyone to see the bride!"

"I thought that was just the groom," Sarah said hesitantly, only for Ellie to call out.

"No, let Chuck in! I want to see him, too."

Sarah smiled at Chuck and stepped out of the room. She patted his shoulder. "Go talk to Ellie. I want to take a look at the church."

Chuck nodded and kissed her cheek. "Save me a dance later?"

"More than one," she said, giving him a saucy grin. She walked down the hallway, knowing that his eyes were on her and therefore giving her hips a little extra sway. He moaned softly and she couldn't help laughing.

Walking into the church itself, Sarah almost sighed at how perfect it looked. The flowers were positioned at the end of each row of seats; the string quartet was set up in a corner, tuning their instruments. Ellie had mentioned that she had originally planned to get married on the beach before her future in-laws had stepped in, but Sarah thought the church looked like the ideal wedding venue.

The groomsmen, minus Chuck, were leading guests to their seats. The pews were over half-full. Looking at her watch, Sarah realized it wasn't long before the wedding was supposed to start, so she turned to head back to the waiting room. But she bumped into someone, stopping her in her tracks.

"I"m sorry-" she started to apologize, only to stop when she saw who it was.

"Well, well," said Ted Roark, his voice oily. "What a lovely dress. Very fetching. Of course, I'm sure the bride's is even lovelier."

"What are you doing here?" she asked, keeping her voice low. The CIA had moved in on Roark Instruments while she and Chuck were at the safe house. Ted Roark had managed to slip away, evading capture, but he was cut off from his funds and his company. Clearly, that was making him take desperate action-like crashing Ellie's wedding. And Sarah wasn't about to let anything ruin this day. She was a bridesmaid, after all.

"I'm here for the wedding of my old chum's daughter, of course! Oh, and to tell you that we want the Intersect cube."

Sarah felt her spine stiffen. "And you think we'll just hand it over?"

"Let's see, a church full of civilians . . . and several Fulcrum operatives, ready to open fire." Ted Roark gestured towards the pews. "Go on, boys, show the lovely Agent Walker where you are."

Several men, all dressed in dark suits and numbering at least a dozen, turned to look back at Sarah and Roark. As they were standing there, another two men walked past, close enough for Sarah to see the bulge of their guns underneath their suit jackets.

"I think we have the advantage, Agent Walker." Roark dropped the easy-going tone. "And I'm done playing around. Take me to Orion or you'll see what itchy trigger fingers the boys have."

As much as she wanted to punch Ted Roark, Sarah knew that it wasn't possible. Just like giving Roark the cube wasn't possible. There had to be another way to save the people here without giving up the Intersect. She just wasn't sure what.

"Fine," she said, her voice curt. "Come with me." She turned on her heel and started walking towards the waiting rooms off the lobby of the church. Hopefully, Chuck's father would be near the room occupied by Ellie and the other bridesmaids, preparing to walk his daughter down the aisle.

She sensed Ted Roark following her. "It must be galling, to lose your company," she said quietly. "Fulcrum must be wondering what your value is to them. That explains this attack. You risk exposing the organization by attacking civilians so openly, but I suppose if you can't secure the Intersect for Fulcrum, they'll decided they don't need you."

"Pipe down, blondie. You wouldn't want to strain that pretty head of yours by thinking," Roark said, pressing something against her back. It felt like a semi-automatic pistol.

Sarah swallowed. She had a few throwing knives in an ankle holster, but in her floor-length dress, she didn't have nearly enough mobility to allow her to get at them quickly. And there were the innocent bystanders that filled the church, the people that would be hurt or killed if she messed up. And if she took out Roark, there was no guarantees that Fulcrum wouldn't open fire.

As she turned down the hallway that lead to the waiting rooms, she sent up a silent thanks that it was empty. Then Chuck stepped out of Ellie's room, making Sarah's heart race. He saw Sarah and his face lit up in a smile, only for his whole body to tense when he saw Ted Roark.

"Charles!" boomed out the disgraced software creator. "Good to see you again. Gives me a chance to repay you for stealing away the Intersect and your father, in that order. And very sneaky of you, to work at my company under a different name so I wouldn't put the pieces together."

Chuck stood stiffly, keeping his body between Roark and the door to the waiting room. "Roark, what are you doing here?"

"He wants Orion to give him the Intersect cube," Sarah said. "And he has over a dozen armed Fulcrum agents mixed in among the wedding guests."

He nodded slowly. "I see."

"Good, good," said Roark. "A real genius, picking up on that. So you just pop off and find your father, we'll talk this out and resolve our paradigm confusion, and your sister can get married without any delays."

"My father's in the next room," Chuck said, gesturing towards the end of the hall. "There's only twenty minutes before my sister's wedding starts, so let's get this started."

Roark urged Sarah forward by shoving his gun against her back. She stumbled forward a step and Chuck reached out to steady her. He glanced at her as they walked slowly towards the next room, his eyes silently asking her if they should try to stop Roark. Sarah shook her head minutely.

It clearly wasn't a satisfactory answer for him, but Chuck nodded slightly to show his understanding. By that point, they had reached the door and Chuck tapped on it. "Dad? I need to talk to you for a minute."

Chuck swung open the door and stepped into a small room that looked like it was normally used as a library or study. A small desk was set against the far wall and floor-to-ceiling bookcases lined the rest of the room. Chuck's father was sitting at the desk, hunched over.

"Just one moment, Charles . . ." Mr. Bartowski said, sounding distracted.

"Sorry, Stephen, but this can't wait." Ted Roark said, attempting a cheerful tone. But Sarah sensed tension within him, like he was losing the ability to put on this act.

Stephen turned around quickly, coming to face the man that was his nemesis. "Ted," he said, standing up and moving towards them. "There's no need to involve my family in this."

Ted sneered. "You were always so pitifully soft, Stephen. That's why you've never succeeded at anything-you were always too worried about being nice."

"Maybe it was just that I didn't see the need to kick someone to get ahead, Ted," Stephen said, drawing himself up to his full height. "And at least I succeeded in not messing up my two amazing kids. You can't say that, can you?"

"Enough!" Roark bellowed. He gestured with his gun, moving away from Sarah and pointing it squarely at Mr. Bartowski. "Where is the Intersect cube?"

"Not here," Stephen said. "And you won't get it, Ted."

Sarah edged closer to Chuck, hoping they could use Roark's distraction from his argument with Stephen to create a plan.

"By the time the wedding is supposed to begin, we'll have twenty agents in this church. No one you care about will be safe," Roark said. "You want their blood on your hands?"

Stephen shuddered slightly. But his voice was strong as he spoke. "No. You can't have the Intersect cube, Ted." He paused, seemingly gathering himself. "But you can have me."

"Dad, no!" Chuck burst out. He took a step forward, like he was ready to interject himself between his father and Roark, but Sarah quickly grabbed his arm. When he looked at her, she shook her head and pulled him back next to her.

Ted scoffed, ignoring Chuck's outburst. "You think we want you?"

"Yes, I do," Stephen said. "With the cube, you get one upload only, into the few agents you can squeeze into a room. But I've got some ideas for how to widen the process-upload the Intersect to as many agents as you want. And, and! I have plenty of ideas for improving the Intersect, making it even better. Tailored to Fulcrum's needs."

"What is he doing?" Chuck whispered, looking crushed. Like he thought his father was becoming a traitor before his very eyes.

"He's stalling," Sarah muttered. "Giving us time to come up with a plan." She took a careful step back, trying not to draw Roark's attention, drawing Chuck along with her. "We need to get everyone out of this church-in a way that won't let Fulcrum open fire."

She could see Chuck struggling, torn between his need to protect his father, his desire to ensure his sister's wedding went off without a hitch, and his loyalty to his country and to saving the civilians being held as unknowing hostages. He swallowed and whispered a sentence that made no sense to her.

"How do you get a crew to want to get off a nuclear sub?"

"What?" she asked, but he ignored her. Suddenly, there was a knock on the door.

"Stephen?" The voice was Honey Woodcomb. "Stephen, it's time for you to escort Ellie down the aisle!"

"We're coming, Mrs. Woodcomb!" Chuck called out. "Just give us one minute."

"Hurry up, Chuck! If we're more than five minutes late, the whole day's schedule is thrown off."

"Okay!" he said, his voice sounding weak to Sarah's ears. He looked at her and whispered, "I don't know what to do, Sarah . . ."

She reached out and took his hand, squeezing it quickly.

Ted Roark was advancing on Stephen. "But the CIA would still have the Intersect cube. That's what Fulcrum wants-they're tired of being one step behind. If you want to sweeten the pot, make sure your son or daughter doesn't die, you'll take me to where the cube is, right now."

Stephen looked at Chuck, as if silently asking what he should do. Sarah looked up at Chuck, whose face was a mixture of worry, regret, and despair. No words were necessary; it was clear that Chuck didn't have a plan that could prevent his father's sacrifice.

His father gave Chuck a small smile and nodded before turning to Roark. "All right, Ted, let's go."

"Splendid," said Roark. "About time." With his free hand, he tapped on a device in his ear. "I need the five largest guys to meet me at the exit. The rest of you, stay here and make sure there's no funny business."

Sarah took a deep breath. They couldn't let Mr. Bartowski do this, but what options did they have? She could feel the tension in Chuck just from his hand.

"Well, let's go, Stephen," Roark said. "There's a wedding that we're holding up. And Fulcrum is very eager to get that cube."

Mr. Bartowski nodded and started walking to the door, letting Roark and his pistol direct him towards the exit. Chuck followed them, obviously not ready to give up even though his shoulders were slumped. Sarah walked with him, still holding his hand tightly.

"It's not too late," she whispered as they walked down the hallway.

Chuck shook his head. "There's got to be a way. Something we could do." He looked around wildly, but the plain white walls seemed to hold nothing that could help them.

As Stephen and Roark stepped into the lobby of the church, only feet from the doors that lead to the steps of the church, she felt a new tension in Chuck's muscles. He had come to a halt, staring at something.

"Chuck? What is it?" she said quietly.

He looked at her, a wide smile on his face and a frantic expression in his eyes. "How do you want a crew to get off a nuclear sub?" he repeated before he let go of her hand. With long strides, he crossed the lobby, going towards the doors that lead into the church itself. But instead of walking into the sanctuary like she half-expected him to do, he veered to his left, going towards a corner where two walls met.

"What . . . ?" was all she managed to say before Chuck pulled the fire alarm.

XXX

Sarah sat on the edge of the fountain in the courtyard outside Ellie and Devon's apartment. She was bone-tired and very ready to get out of her bridesmaid dress, but she wouldn't be able to leave until Chuck finished talking with Ellie. And given Ellie's distraught state, it would probably be a lot longer until she would be home.

Not that Sarah could blame Ellie. Her wedding had been ruined and she didn't even know why. At least, not the real reason. Chuck had come up with a quick story of a broken gas line that no one had noticed until right before she was due to walk down the aisle, necessitating a quick evacuation of the church and no re-entry permitted. But Ellie hadn't bought that and Chuck had been forced to admit that he had pulled the fire alarm. At that point, Ellie had stomped off to the bathroom and Chuck had gone after her. It was too hard to bear Devon's sadness and the Woodcombs' annoyance, so Sarah had stepped outside, seeking refuge in the courtyard.

At least they had gotten Ted Roark. Mr. Bartowski had, in fact, laid him out with one punch. The Fulcrum agents had scattered, aborting the mission and leaving behind Roark. The disgraced software executive was now in federal custody while the CIA and NSA figured out what they would do with him. She hoped that they would throw the book at him. Not just for his terrorist acts, but for the crimes he had perpetrated against Stephen as well.

She ran her hands through her hair, then shifted on the hard concrete of the fountain's enclosure. She couldn't stop thinking about Ellie's disappointment. How heartbroken she had looked when Chuck had said it was his fault. At that moment, Sarah had been ready to tell Chuck to break silence. To tell his sister the truth, to reassure her that he was still the person she thought he was. But as soon as the thought had crossed her mind, she had clamped her mouth shut, refusing to voice it. She didn't know why the idea had occurred to her; there was certainly no one in her life that she would be willing to tell about her true career who didn't already know that truth. So why had she thought Chuck should do that?

Sarah shook her head. Clearly, she was tired after a long, draining day. As regrettable as it was for Chuck to lie to his sister, it was necessary to keep her safe. Sarah felt like she had gotten to know Ellie Bartowski over the last few months. If Ellie had known her baby brother might be in danger, she would grab the nearest item that could be used as a weapon and go after whatever the threat was. It would be an admirable and natural act, but that instinct would also probably result in injury to Ellie or something even worse.

Stretching out her legs, she kicked off her heels and wiggled her toes. Ellie was better off not knowing about Chuck or herself.

The door to the Bartowski-Woodcomb apartment opened and Sarah brightened slightly when she saw it was Chuck. It was obvious that he was hurting from his conversation with Ellie, so Sarah patted the concrete block next to her. Without any protest, he walked over and sat down next to her, immediately taking her hand and holding it tightly.

After waiting a moment, she spoke softly. "How's Ellie?"

Chuck sighed. "She's sitting in the bathtub, still in her wedding dress while chugging champagne straight from the bottle."

"Ouch," Sarah winced, feeling a wave of sympathy.

"Yeah," Chuck said, his voice unhappy. "Today was the most important day of her life and I ruined it."

"It was the last thing you wanted to do, Chuck," she said, her voice gentle.

"But I still did it. Because of me, Roark came to the wedding with a whole bunch of Fulcrum agents, and because of me pulling the fire alarm, her wedding was destroyed."

She refused to let his bleak assessment stand. "Ellie would be the first person to want innocent people to be protected. That's what you did today. I can't think of anyone who less deserves this, but you'll find a way to fix it."

He gazed at her, his eyes uncertain. "You think so?"

"I know so," Sarah said, injecting into her voice equal parts determination, support and the refusal to let him wallow. "You'll make this up to Ellie-you'll give her the wedding of her dreams." She squeezed his hand. "And I'll help, too."

"Well, then, how could I go wrong?" he asked softly, a small smile growing slowly on his face.

She smiled back and kissed him lightly. "How, indeed?"

He chuckled and leaned his head on her shoulder. "I could sleep right here for a week, but . . ."

"But it'd be a lot more comfortable in our bed," Sarah finished. "Let's go home."

"Our bed?" he asked, lifting his head and looking at her.

Her slip of the tongue of course wouldn't go unnoticed by Chuck. She slid her feet back into her heels and stood up, brushing down her dress. "Yes-our bed," she said, trying to act casual. "Because it's a bed shared by you and me."

Chuck stayed seated, watching her for a moment before he rose, his smile becoming wider. "Okay," he said, taking her hand. "So let's go."

They started walking towards the car, their hands gently swaying between them. She searched her mind for something to say, something that would break this slightly awkward, slightly laden-with-extra-meaning moment. She blurted out, "What was that line you kept saying in the church today? The one about the crew and the nuclear sub?"

He looked puzzled, then he laughed. "Oh, that's a line from _The Hunt for Red October_. The main character at one point has to figure out how the captain of a Russian sub would trick his crew into wanting to get off the sub. The situation in the church seemed similar to that." He paused and grinned. "Another movie you haven't seen?"

She nudged him gently. "Clearly yes," she said a bit tartly even as she smiled at him.

Letting go of her hand and slinging his arm around her shoulders, he walked with her to the car. "We can watch it sometime."

As he fell into a ramble about the many ways her movie education needed to be improved, Sarah let him talk, taking comfort in his voice. Somehow, they had managed to save their country and the Intersect. Even though Ellie's wedding was the victim of their success, Sarah would still take the win. Especially since she knew between the two of them, they would make Ellie's beachside wedding a reality instead of just a dream.

End, Chapter 14


	15. Chapter 15

Chuck shifted the strap of his carry-on, then tugged on his tie as he walked into the airport bookstore. He didn't really like sitting on a plane for seven hours in a suit, but there wasn't another option. Together with Casey, his father, and Sarah, he was taking a commercial flight from LAX to DC. Since they would be going right to Langley, there wouldn't be time to change. Thus, the suit for the flight.

Casey and his father were already at the gate while Sarah got some coffees for everyone. He was hoping to find something to read, since he had finally finished the last book in _A Song of Fire and Ice_. But what to get? He milled through the store, picking up a few books to read their summaries but finding nothing, until he got to the magazine rack.

Looking at the glossy covers, his eyes widened when he saw the bridal magazines. "That's it!" he said softly. He quickly grabbed each magazine and carried them up to the register.

The magazines made a soft thump as he set them down on the counter. He grinned at the clerk. "I'd probably be reading less pages if the new George R.R. Martin was out."

The clerk eyed him, a trifle suspiciously, then shrugged and rang him up. Chuck picked up the stack of magazines and found room for them in his carry-on. He winced a little at the extra weight, but it was worth it. If he was going to make Ellie's dream wedding happen, he needed to do as much research as possible.

As he stepped out of the bookstore, he saw Sarah walking towards him, carrying a tray of coffees. He smiled and loped through the terminal, catching up to her easily. "Hey."

"Hi," she said, smiling at him. She was dressed professionally in a skirt suit, wearing the high heels that made her legs go on for miles. How she walked on those things, he had no idea. But they sure did make her look good.

The sound of fingers snapping drew his attention. Sarah grinned at him. "My eyes are up here, not down there," she said, gesturing towards her feet.

Chuck felt his ears go red. "Sorry," he said sheepishly. "Here, let me carry the coffees-"

Sarah laughed. "I've got them. You find something to read?"

He nodded, falling into step with her as they navigated through the normal airport crowds of tourists and businesspeople. "Yeah-some bridal magazines, for researching Ellie's wedding." He looked at Sarah. "You really think we could put a new wedding together in just two weeks?"

"Of course we can," Sarah said, giving him an encouraging smile. "After all, we have a lot more resources than most wedding planners."

"Like the ability to claim 'national security' to get what we want?" he said in amusement.

"It's not something I'd recommend to deal with every problem, but it's nice to have it as an option," she said, grinning up at him.

Chuck nodded, gazing down at her. Sarah's confidence in him and her support for this project was amazing. A lot of people would have told him not to feel guilty. Fellow spies would say that hurting other people came with the job. But Sarah was helping him fix the mess he created.

Resting his hand on her lower back, he leaned in towards her. "I have mentioned how much I appreciate your help with all this? Especially since once the upgrade starts I'll probably be down for the count and you'll be in charge of the wedding plans?"

She looked up at him and smiled softly. "You have mentioned that, yes. And really, you don't have to keep thanking me. I want to help Ellie and Devon, too."

Nodding, he kissed the top of her head. "And maybe it'll be kind of fun. You know, planning everything but not being all stressed out because it's your big day."

He had become more and more convinced that Sarah was the only woman he wanted. The only woman he could see himself marrying. But he didn't think he could propose to her off the cuff, but it wouldn't work if he used the proposal plan he came up with when he was eleven. After all, he didn't even have a DeLorean or Lamborghini, let alone a ring. It might seem like he was moving fast, since they only recently repaired their relationship. But through the bad times, he'd never doubted that Sarah was who he wanted. And now that he knew she felt the same way about him . . . why should they wait any longer? Waste any more time? Even if they had a long engagement, which he suspected would be the case, at least they would have that commitment to each other.

Maybe working together to plan Ellie's wedding would help him figure out how to propose to Sarah. He didn't think she'd care about fancy sports cars or big, over-the-top gestures. But he wanted to make her see how important she was to him. He wanted his proposal to be perfect.

"You don't think it'll be more nerve-wracking, wondering if this place or those flowers are what Ellie and Devon would want?" Sarah asked him as they approached their gate.

Now that was something he hadn't considered. "I guess I thought because I know Ellie so well, I'd be able to do this," he said slowly.

Sarah came to a stop, holding the coffees in one hand while reaching out to rest her free hand on his arm. "You do know her-you two are so close. I'm sure you can do this."

Chuck smiled softly. "We can do this, you mean." He covered her hand with his as he leaned in to kiss her softly.

She smiled against his lips, then pulled back. "Okay, let's take it easy on Casey."

He grinned at her and nodded, following her into the waiting area at the gate.

XXX

Walking through CIA headquarters today was quite a different experience from the last time, three months before. Then, he had no idea that the closeness he'd experienced with Sarah while on their vacation was going to be threatened. In fact, their very relationship had been on the edge of failing. But this time? He walked into CIA headquarters with his head held high and his hand on Sarah's back, leading the rest of the team towards Director Graham's office.

His father had enlisted Casey to help him carry a box full of papers and schematics, while Stephen carried his overstuffed duffel containing the Intersect cube. Stephen had refused to let the cube out of his possession since he had returned from Fulcrum's base. The only time Chuck had seen his father without it was at Ellie's wedding-which had turned out to be a good thing.

Chuck could hear his father mumbling to himself, which he seemed to do when he was nervous. It was an understandable reaction; Chuck still got a little nervous when he walked into Director Graham's office.

Langston Graham stood up as soon as the four of them walked into the room. He walked over to Stephen first. "Orion, it's good to see you." There was actual warmth in his voice as he shook Stephen's hand.

"Director Graham," Stephen said, sounding somewhat distant. "You really should start listening to me when it comes to the Intersect. I told you it wouldn't be ready, yet you were going to go ahead with the upgrade."

"Given the threat that Fulcrum poses, then and now, we made the decision to proceed, Orion," Graham said. "Our lack of communication with you didn't allow us to ask the questions we wanted to ask."

"Well, that's been fixed for the future, once I improve the communications grid," Stephen said.

Graham nodded, then gestured towards a conference table. "General Beckman will be joining us shortly."

Chuck noticed that the director's eyes had lingered on Sarah and himself. He was sure that Graham had immediately observed Chuck's hand on Sarah's back and was drawing assumptions from it. But fortunately, there were more important issues for them to worry about.

No sooner had they gotten settled than General Beckman bustled in. "Hello, people. Good to see you, Orion, especially since we thought you were dead."

"General," Stephen said, his voice brusque.

"Let's get down to work," Graham said. "Orion, please discuss the changes that Agent Bartowski will experience with version 2.0 of the Intersect."

"Yes, well," Stephen said, looking a bit flustered at being the center of attention. "The information architecture has been completely overhauled, since we know more about how the brain works. The new Intersect will be more efficient at serving intelligence to Charles."

Graham nodded. "Of course, something like this is hard to simulate, but do you have any ideas at how much improvement we'll see?"

Stephen shrugged. "Perhaps ten percent, perhaps fifty."

If this was a normal briefing, Chuck guessed that Graham or Beckman would be frustrated by Stephen's lack of information. But he had a sense that they cut his father some slack-giving him more leeway than anyone else, he suspected. Given what Stephen had created for the CIA and NSA, it wasn't surprising.

"What about the faulty Fulcrum Intersect?" Beckman asked crisply. "It doesn't seem to have negatively affected Agent Bartowski, but how do we know it won't when he receives the upgrade?"

His father did a double-take. "Excuse me?" Without waiting for an answer from the powers-that-be, he turned to face Chuck. "You uploaded the Fulcrum attempt at an Intersect?"

Chuck shifted. "I didn't want to-I was forced to do it."

"And you didn't think to tell me this before?" Stephen said, sweeping his eyes from Chuck to Graham and Beckman.

"Your refusal to check in made it impossible to share such news," Beckman said, her voice icy. "And your extreme desire for secrecy hindered our attempts to preserve Agent Bartowski's safety after that upload."

"While these facts are accurate, this is water under the bridge," Graham said, cutting off the retort that everyone could see Stephen preparing to make. "Yes, Agent Bartowski has two Intersects in his head. How would you recommend we proceed, Orion?"

The tension in the room, already thick, ratcheted up another notch. Chuck took a deep breath, feeling like he was eavesdropping on a conversation that he shouldn't be listening to. He felt awkward being here-and if he felt like this, as the Intersect, he could only imagine how Sarah and Casey felt.

Stephen had been quiet for a few moments; Chuck assumed he was trying to work out an answer to Director Graham's question. The heavy silence was finally broken when Stephen spoke. "I'd recommend removing the Intersect, then."

"Just the Fulcrum one?" Beckman asked, leaning forward.

"No, both Intersects," Stephen said, shaking his head. "To use a computer term, do a clean install of the 2.0 Intersect."

Chuck felt a stab of nerves. Receiving the initial upload was still a fuzzy memory for him; it had been an overwhelming process as thousands of files had been transmitted into his brain. Even the upgrade he had received six months after the first upload had been painful and difficult. And now he'd have to go through the whole upload process again?

"That seems extreme," Graham commented, his voice deep.

"Agent Bartowski would be unavailable for days," Beckman said, sounding displeased.

"Then maybe you shouldn't have let him be exposed to a flawed Intersect from Fulcrum," sniped Stephen.

"Mr. Bartowski, what do you think might happen to Ch-Agent Bartowski if the Fulcrum Intersect isn't removed before the upgrade?" Sarah asked, leaning forward as she spoke for the first time.

"Everything might be fine. But having that faulty system in his head, it's not safe," Stephen said firmly.

"But is it even possible to remove the Intersect?" Graham asked. "I thought your research showed that the Intersect is permanent."

Chuck swallowed. Permanent? He knew when he agreed to the Intersect that it was unlikely that it'd ever be out of his head, but if there was really no way to remove it, what would happen as he got older? Would the CIA put so many demands and restrictions on his life that he wouldn't be able to be anything but Agent Bartowski? And why hadn't he ever thought about this?

Stephen let out a disdainful snort, interrupting Chuck's self-reflection. "Of course there's a way to remove it. The earliest prototypes, no, removal wasn't an option. But all of my work within the last five years has included methods for taking the Intersect out of someone's head. And since Fulcrum's Intersect is based on mine, it should follow those same removal methods."

"What is the anticipated recovery time for Agent Bartowski?" Beckman asked. "It took him nearly two weeks to be ready after the first upload."

"I'd guess it'd be about a week, tops," Stephen said slowly. "Remove the Intersect, wait twenty-four hours, upload the 2.0. A few days of testing and tweaking, and he'll be ready to go."

Under the cover of the conference table, Chuck felt a foot press against his. He glanced at Sarah, who gave him a small smile. As much as he wished he could hold her hand right now, he knew it wouldn't be wise. But having even limited contact helped soothe his spirits. Just like the first time, he'd have Sarah with him during the upload, watching his back and keeping him safe.

"I'm concerned about the downtime," Beckman said, "but I don't think there's anything we can do about it. We need to do everything possible to guarantee the new Intersect is a success, and protect Agent Bartowski from any further harm."

"Agreed," Graham said. "Orion, when would you be ready to upload the Intersect 2.0?"

"There's only some final tweaks. A day or so?"

"Then Agent Bartowski, you'll have the Intersect removed this evening," Graham said, pushing his chair back. "There are quarters established for you and the rest of your team near the labs; we don't want to risk Fulcrum attempting to kidnap you, or succeeding in capturing Orion again."

Although Chuck had hoped for a little private time with Sarah, doing some sightseeing in DC or just simply being alone together in their hotel room, he knew how logical the CIA's stance was, so he simply nodded. "Yes, sir."

Before Director Graham could dismiss them, as he seemed ready to do, Chuck leaned forward in his chair. "Before we wrap up, I'd like to know more about the Intersect upgrade." He looked around the table, his eyes settling on his father. "What changes have been made, beyond the information architecture?"

Stephen cleared his throat. "Well, Director Graham and General Beckman thought that the Intersect could be more than a data tool."

"In our initial planning, we had hoped to install the Intersect into an experienced agent, one who has a wide range of skills," Graham said. "Unfortunately, we found that at the time, we lacked agents who could meet the high standards needed for the Intersect, and . . ."

"What?" Chuck asked, wanting Graham to finish explaining.

"The agents they tried couldn't handle it," Beckman said.

"Their neural pathways didn't have the flexibility to juggle their experience and training with the Intersect's knowledge," Stephen said quickly. "When they received intelligence from the Intersect, they would freeze up, just like a computer. Their brains couldn't handle the competing impulses."

"So we focused on finding candidates who would be trained just enough, but not too much," Graham said. "Orion thought that when the Intersect was uploaded to a less-experienced agent, they wouldn't have such conflicts. And he's been proven correct, thanks to your performance, Agent Bartowski."

Chuck swallowed, taking this in. The thought that the Intersect was even riskier than he had thought-that they had put it in his head, knowing that it might backfire . . . He'd noticed that no one had elaborated on just how those other agents, the experienced ones, had reacted to getting the Intersect.

"Therefore, we asked Orion to see if it was possible, in this new version, to load more than just intelligence into the Intersect," Graham said.

Shaking his head, Chuck pushed aside his thoughts. "What do you mean?"

"Most operatives receive specialized training after they've passed through the Farm," General Beckman said. "Languages, weapons, martial arts, cultural knowledge."

He nodded. Sarah had talked a little about the training she had received during the years after she had been recruited. "And?"

"Orion has delivered, in the Intersect 2.0, a way to permit an agent with the Intersect the ability to have those skills," Graham said.

Chuck blinked, then looked at his father. "You-you made the Intersect like the Matrix?"

"Excuse me?" Beckman asked.

"It's a movie, General," Stephen said. "Chuck's analogy is apt." He turned to look at Chuck, his fingers fidgeting. "Just like the intelligence you receive from the Intersect, you can be fed whatever skills you need when triggered. If it's an attacker, you'll get martial arts skills to defend yourself. You'll be able to speak French when you're in France, the right dialect when you're in Burma."

"Seriously?" Casey asked, his voice gruff.

"Yes, Major Casey," Graham said. "Orion's confident that this element of the new Intersect will be fully-functioning. I'm sure he can provide further information to Agent Bartowski tomorrow." The director paused and looked at his watch. "I have another briefing to attend, so let's wrap this up. Intersect removal is set for 7:00 this evening, then."

Graham paused and looked at Chuck, Sarah and Casey. "Your work has been exemplary so far. You've played a major role in reducing the size of Fulcrum. With the new version of the Intersect, we can completely eliminate these terrorists."

"Major Casey, Agent Walker, be prepared to help guard Agent Bartowski while he is without the Intersect," Beckman said.

Chuck opened his mouth to protest, but Beckman cut him off. "You'll be physically and mentally weakened by the process, Agent Bartowski. We can't risk having something happen to you with the Intersect upgrade waiting."

"Yes, General," Chuck said grudgingly. He had a hard enough time convincing his father that he was a capable spy without the Intersect; now Beckman was just confirming that mistaken belief. One that was so strong, they had decided to make the Intersect 2.0 be able to do everything that Chuck couldn't do.

"This is no reflection on your abilities, Agent," Graham said. "Just a precaution in case Fulcrum causes trouble, as we expect them to do."

Chuck sighed and nodded before he stood up. Sarah also came to her feet, letting her hand brush against his. He looked at her and she gave him a small, supportive smile.

It was selfish of him to be upset about this, he knew. And part of the reason he was upset was to distract himself from all the questions in his head about the new aspects of the Intersect. But he knew that Graham and Beckman were just being practical, wanting him to be protected. He would be vulnerable once the Intersect was out of his head, but more from the physical repercussions than lacking that intelligence. And he'd much rather have Casey and Sarah watching out for him than agents he didn't know.

The thought of the Intersect being more than just a way to get intelligence . . . he didn't know how he felt about that. It seemed too amazing to be real. How was it even possible? Why hadn't Stephen told him about this, warned him that this was coming?

In a daze, Chuck followed Sarah, Casey and his father out of Graham's office. Stephen looked at Chuck. "Well. You might want to rest this afternoon."

"I'll be fine, Dad," Chuck said, keeping his voice neutral. "I'll probably do some research on Fulcrum's latest moves." Right now, he needed time to process everything. If he tried to talk to his father, he'd probably lose his temper. And that was the last thing they needed right now. He needed to stay calm.

Stephen, who had seemed confident during the briefing, folded in on himself. His shoulders were hunched and his words were hesitant. "Right. Well, I-I'm off to the labs. I'll see you all later," he said, taking the box of papers that Casey had been toting all this time. He nodded and shuffled down the hall towards a bank of elevators.

"Getting some rest isn't a bad idea," Sarah said quietly.

"Do you really think I could sleep?" Chuck asked, shaking his head. "I've got too much to think about."

Casey snorted softly. "And that's different from how you are normally exactly how, Bartowski? Your hamster wheel's always spinning."

Chuck couldn't help laughing a little at Casey's metaphor, feeling the tension break. Sarah shook her head. "That is true," she agreed, giving Chuck a small smile.

"All right, so I think a lot," Chuck said, taking Sarah's hand. "So where are we going?"

Sarah produced a key card. "We've got a suite of rooms down on sub-level 2. We can probably work there until it's time." It might have been his imagination, but he thought Sarah's voice shook a little on the last words.

He squeezed her hand gently. "We should probably see what Fulcrum's been up to over the last few days. I haven't read the briefing files very closely, due to Ellie's wedding and everything."

As he walked with Sarah and Casey, Chuck did his best to keep the conversation going as they discussed how they would approach their Fulcrum research. Talking about something other than the Intersect helped a little. It kept his mind from thinking about not having the Intersect, about the risks of uploading the new version, about everything that might go wrong.

It was a lot to deal with. He just hoped he would have the time to do so.

XXX

As it got closer to seven o'clock, Chuck found himself reading the same paragraph of text over and over again. He knew he didn't have that much to worry about, not really. After all, it was a good thing, getting the Fulcrum Intersect removed. He wouldn't have to worry about the information he flashed on-he'd know it was from the CIA. And with the new version of the Intersect, he'd be better than ever after he recovered. That is, if this new version didn't turn his brains into cottage cheese by giving him a short cut to James Bond.

A hand on his arm drew him out of his introspection. He looked up to see Sarah giving him a small smile. "You don't have to keep pretending, Chuck."

He looked around and saw that they were alone, so he gave in to his instincts and kissed her softly. "I'm just nervous."

Sarah nodded. "I know, baby." She rubbed his arm. "But it's going to work out."

She sounded so confident. So determined. He gazed at her. "How do you know that?"

"Because I know you," she said softly. "You're always beating the odds."

A rush of happiness went through him and he leaned in to kiss her again. This was all he wanted: Sarah and him, standing side-by-side, facing whatever life or the CIA could throw at them.

If wishes could come true, he would be able to take this kiss to its logical conclusion. Unfortunately, he only got another sign that wishes didn't often come true. A knock on the door made the two of them separate. Chuck gave Sarah a sheepish, apologetic look, then called out, "Come in!"

To Chuck's surprise, it was Stephen. He poked his head into the room and hesitated, then stepped inside. "Hello."

"Hey, Dad," Chuck said, standing up. "Is it time?"

"No-well, yes, almost. I . . . I was hoping I could have a word with you." Stephen shuffled his feet, looking nervous. "Alone, if you don't mind."

He looked at Sarah, who smiled at him. "Talk to your dad-I'll go find Casey." She squeezed his hand and quickly kissed his cheek before slipping out of the room.

Looking over at his dad, Chuck wondered what was making him so nervous. "Have a seat, Dad," he said, gesturing towards the table and chairs in the center of the room. "Do you want anything to drink? We have some bottles of water . . ."

"I'm fine," Stephen said, walking over and taking a seat. He waited until Chuck had sat back down before he started talking. "I know that the next day is going to be a busy one for you, so I wanted-I know you're not happy with me, you haven't been since our last talk, and I didn't want to leave things like this between us. Not when it's my fault."

"Dad . . ." Chuck said, shifting in his chair. "I won't lie and say that everything's great between us. I just-" He paused, taking a moment to gather his thoughts before looking at his father. "You really hurt me when you said the only reason I'm a spy is because of the Intersect. And now that the new version can do so much, things that I could have learned with time . . . "

"Aren't you, though? The reason they recruited you was because they wanted to put the Intersect in you," Stephen said, sounding frustrated and worried. "Once they identified you as the best candidate, they were going to get you any way they could."

Chuck blew out a breath. "That might be true, Dad, but it doesn't mean I went right from Stanford to the Intersect upload. I had the same basic training that any spy gets, did you know that? Three and a half months at Fort Peary, then the special training at Project Omaha." He paused for a moment to let that sink in. "I'm plenty capable of defending myself without the Intersect."

"I know all this, Chuck. It's in your file. But you can't tell me that guns and knives, having to use those weapons-it can't be your favorite part of the job. Now you don't have to think about it-the Intersect will react when you'll need to defend yourself. You'll be ready for anything."

"No, it's not," he agreed. "You're right, I really hate that part of being a spy. But honestly? Any job would have things I wouldn't like. So I just learned to suck it up."

Stephen shook his head. "I still don't understand why you didn't go work for a software company. That was all you talked about when you were younger."

It took Chuck a few moments to deal with the spike of anger that he felt at Stephen's words. His father had left when he was a scrawny, awkward fifteen-year-old. That Chuck had been beguiled by the idea of making a lot of money, meeting beautiful women, having a yacht and a house and all the trappings of wealth. But it was a dream that wasn't any different from a teenage jock thinking they'd play for the NBA. It was a pipe dream.

Chuck spoke slowly as he explained what had happened. "I was told I could make a difference. Serve my country. Do something better than make a lot of money and retire by the time I was thirty." He looked at Stephen for a moment, then let his eyes fall as he continued. "When I was recruited, I thought about Ellie. How she became a doctor to help people. She could care less about the money and the status-she only wanted to make the world a better place. And here I was, thinking about making a lot of money." He swallowed. "When I realized that, I felt so . . . small. The CIA seemed like a way to follow Ellie's example."

His father sighed softly. "I still have mixed feelings about this. Because it's dangerous, being the Intersect."

"I know, Dad," Chuck said, his voice low. "But I'm good at this."

He could hear the determination in his voice, because he wasn't going to let Stephen take this away from him. Because it was true: his brain worked with the Intersect to help people, to solve puzzles that no one else could figure out. That was worth this argument with his father, the lying to Ellie and Morgan, the threat of danger.

Stephen swallowed. "I've always known you were special, Chuck. Having the Intersect doesn't prove anything to me. I'm still disappointed that you're in this life. But . . . but it's your life. I guess I have to make my peace with it. And I'm doing that by making the Intersect just right for you." His father tried to smile at him. "You might be the only person who can use the Intersect the way it's supposed to be used. As a resource, not a weapon."

Chuck felt touched by his father's admission. That he could see Chuck's ability after all. That he really did believe in him, that he wanted the best for him. "Really? Even with the changes-with all the languages and martial arts being added in?"

"I always meant for the Intersect to be a way for people to learn, Chuck," Stephen said. "Adding in skills like this, it's the logical next step."

"It was really hard for me to learn how to use weapons," Chuck said slowly. "But I learned-I faced the challenge and got that feeling of accomplishment. But if I could have just learned through the Intersect . . . I don't understand how having all the knowledge instantly helps you learn."

His father smiled, a little sheepishly. "You don't keep the skills, though. It's only temporary. To really learn, you'd need to study and train."

"Oh," Chuck said, leaning back in his chair. "So . . . so I could still learn French if I wanted and then I wouldn't need to flash on it?"

"That's right, son," Stephen said softly, sounding proud.

He couldn't help a small, embarrassed smile at this expression of approval. Swallowing, Chuck tried to get back to the matter at hand. "So-so you made these changes to the Intersect for me? To make it right?"

Stephen nodded. "The original Intersect, I didn't know who would end up with it. It was impossible to tailor it for the candidate. But this time, with the scientists who had run so many tests on you, I could shape the Intersect 2.0 to your brain. As you know, the new Intersect's architecture, it's totally redesigned, better than ever. Add in the extra features and you'll be able to do anything, Chuck."

Chuck wished he could have more time with his father. Get a chance to talk more about the Intersect and being a spy. But they didn't have the time right now. Maybe later, during the testing after he received the new Intersect, they'd get the chance. But for now, it was probably time to go, now that he was somewhat reassured about the new Intersect.

"We probably should get going," Chuck said, his voice regretful.

"Yeah," Stephen said, nodding as he stood up. He smiled a little at Chuck. "Ready?"

He took a deep breath. "Honestly? No. But I don't know if I'll ever be ready, so let's go."

Following his father out of the room, Chuck felt a little better about the Intersect 2.0. But there were still so many questions. Some of them wouldn't be solved until after the upload, once he could actually start using it. He hoped he'd get a chance to do that.

XXX

The Intersect room here in D.C. wasn't that different from the one at the Project Omaha base. The biggest change was that the room wasn't two levels with an observation gallery. This room had no way for outsiders to watch the upload. To Chuck's surprise, there wasn't a chair or any way to restrain him.

All there was in the very white room was a small console in the center of the room with-

"Is that an original Mac?" Chuck asked, unable to help the grin that spread across his face.

"Yes," Stephen said, smiling back a bit hesitantly. "It's actually the one we had when you and Ellie were growing up."

Chuck shook his head. "You could have the fastest, most cutting-edge computers in the world for the Intersect and you're using an original Mac."

"It just seemed right to use this," Stephen said, stepping over and hitting a few keys on the Mac.

As he watched his father, Chuck pondered his words. What must his father had felt, finding out that it was his son who had the Intersect? He probably thought that Chuck would never know that he was responsible for the Intersect, responsible for changing Chuck's life. But because of a combination of factors, they'd learned about each other's part in this. So he couldn't help agreeing that their family's old computer did seem like the right choice for uploading him with a new version of the Intersect.

But first, they would remove the old versions, including Fulcrum's. He was glad to be getting that out of his head, that was for sure.

"All right, son," Stephen said, taking Chuck's arm and leading him over to the computer. "As you can see, it's all set for you. Once I'm out of the room, you put your palm on that scanner. The computer will confirm that it's removing the Intersect and then . . . then you just don't close your eyes."

"No chair, no restraints?" Chuck asked, still not really believing that he wasn't going to be tied down for this.

Stephen shook his head. "It's not necessary. And . . . and I worried about how it'd look to others." He looked at Chuck. "You're not something that needs to be caged."

Chuck swallowed. That had been his reaction when he received the Intersect upload: that he was being treated like Bruce Banner and they were just waiting for him to Hulk out. It had made him even more nervous. "Thanks, Dad," he said softly.

With a small smile, Stephen nodded. "Okay, you're all set. So whenever you're ready . . ." His voice trailed off as he gestured towards the computer. He looked at Chuck and gave him the same smile that Chuck had seen a hundred other times in his life: before his first day of school, during science fairs and baseball games, at any moment that Chuck needed some encouragement.

He smiled back and nodded to Stephen, who turned and walked out of the room. At the door he paused and looked back at Chuck. There was still so much left unsaid, but now wasn't the time to say it. So Chuck just gave him what he hoped was a confident smile. It must have convinced his father, because although he still looked worried, he left the room.

The clunk as the door closed felt very final to Chuck. He didn't quite know why he felt so nervous, since he knew that tomorrow evening, he'd be back in this room to receive the Intersect upload. That would be the really nerve-wracking part. But he had to manage his nerves and try not to give away just how anxious he felt. He only gave himself one moment to freak out, to wonder at all the ways things might go wrong. Then, with a deep breath, he stepped up to the computer. For a moment, he let himself wish that Sarah could have been here, then he straightened his shoulders. It was time to get this over with.

With only a slight tremble, he reached out and pressed his hand against the scanner pad, waiting for the Intersect to be removed.

XXX

Slowly, Chuck felt himself become conscious. He was on a bed, his head felt heavy with the aftereffects of a truly epic migraine, and he was thirsty.

Blinking his eyes open, he took in the dimly-lit room. There was a light source, probably a lamp, behind him; he could tell by the soft aura of light that spilled out into the room. The unmistakable sound of a page turning made him tense for a moment. There was someone in the room.

He rolled over carefully, his head still pounding, and felt the tension immediately evaporate. It was Sarah.

At the sound of his movement, she looked up from the thick magazine she was reading and gave him a bright smile. "Chuck!" she said softly, shoving the magazine aside and getting up from her chair to crouch by his side. She gently stroked his hair. "Hi, Sleeping Beauty."

Chuck laughed, then winced. "Ow." He fought with the covers a little, enough to get his hand out to rub his forehead. Then Sarah's words sunk in all the way. "Wait, how long have I been sleeping?"

"Shhh," Sarah said, rubbing his shoulder. "I was just joking." She glanced at her watch. "It's only been about six hours."

Given the way his head felt, he tried not to feel embarrassed about how long it took him to figure out what time it was now. But when he did grasp what time it was, his concern focused on Sarah. "It's after one o'clock-you should be sleeping."

"Someone should be here when you woke up," Sarah said. She smiled at him as she kept rubbing his shoulder. "I thought you'd like to see me more than Casey."

The room wasn't bright enough for Chuck to really see her expression, but since she hadn't stopped touching him since he woke up, he guessed that Sarah had been worrying about him. It wasn't that he thought she wouldn't worry about him, but seeing the evidence so clearly and having Sarah not be afraid to show him that . . . it gave him a small spark of confidence. Both of them had changed, thanks to each other. They had come so far and he wanted to go farther with her. Together.

Sarah took a deep breath. "Do you need anything? I've got some water and some food . . ."

"Water, please," he said, wanting to ease the scratchiness in his throat. He could feel something building in him, something that he wanted to let out, but he knew he had to deal with his dehydration first.

With Sarah's help, he shifted his upper body into an elevated position. She handed him an uncapped bottle of water and he sipped it slowly, enjoying the cool water sliding down his throat.

"How's your head feeling?" she asked quietly.

"Well, it's been worse," he said after taking stock. His head was definitely hurting, but it couldn't compare to some of the migraines he had experienced after a long day of flashing. "With some more sleep, I should be fine in the morning."

Her smile was brief yet incredibly bright. "That's good news."

"Yeah," he said, giving her a small smile back. "What were you reading?"

Sarah chuckled softly. "The bridal magazines you got at the airport. After all, I'm helping with Ellie's wedding, too."

Chuck gazed up at her. "I know, baby." He reached out and took her hand, lacing his fingers through hers.

She held his hand tightly and firmly, yet her smile was soft and shy. "I found some really pretty bridesmaid dresses. Did I tell you I emailed the other bridesmaids and told them about what we're doing? They all think it's the sweetest thing they've ever heard."

He lazily rubbed his thumb against her hand. "I'm not doing it to be sweet."

"That's just a side benefit," Sarah said, smiling at him. "Because I know why you're doing it."

"You do?" he asked quietly, and Sarah nodded.

"Yeah. It's because you feel responsible for what happened and you want to fix things. That . . . that's what I admire about you so much, Chuck. That you'll always try and do the right thing, even if that means hurting yourself." She paused, gazing at him as she nibbled on her lip for a moment. "It's-it's something I love about you."

Chuck felt his heart leap into his throat. No matter how many times he heard Sarah say that she loved him, it never changed that first moment of joy at hearing her say the words. He hoped he never stopped feeling it.

He squeezed her hand. "You do that, too. You put other people first, which makes me love you even more."

Sarah ducked her head, looking embarrassed. He tugged on her hand as he shifted over on the bed a little. "C'mere."

When Sarah spoke, her voice was a little high-pitched, but she gave him an amused smile. "Really, Agent Bartowski?" But she slid onto the bed, staying on top of the covers.

"Why not, Agent Walker?" he said, smiling back at her. He lightly kissed her cheek, then rested his head on the pillows. "So any other news about Ellie's wedding?"

"You should get some more sleep," Sarah said, pressing a kiss to his temple before curling in against him.

"Just start talking and I'll be able to sleep," he said, letting go of her hand in order to drape his arm over her waist and hold her close to him.

"Uh-huh, right." Sarah's voice sounded both teasing and doubtful. But she started going over the plans so far, talking about the progress they had made. Her voice was soft and gentle, washing over Chuck and soothing him in a way nothing else could. He felt himself slip into sleep, Sarah's voice talking about flowers and dresses and candlelight. It lulled him into the perfect dream. In it, they were the ones getting married. It was Sarah, coming down the aisle towards him in a white dress, her smile so bright that she lit up the church all by herself.

And even in his dream, he knew that he wanted this to be real.

XXX

The next time he opened his eyes, Chuck was happy to discover two things. One, his head was barely throbbing, which hopefully meant by this evening he wouldn't have any discomfort during the Intersect upload. The second and much more delightful realization was that Sarah was still curled up against him and she was fast asleep.

He reached out and gently stroked her hair. It was still rare to see Sarah asleep; even during the last two weeks, she generally woke up before he did and got out of bed to work out, make coffee or take a shower. As Chuck gazed at her, he felt himself fall in love with her all over again.

This might not be the best time. They'd never really talked about marriage or a long-term commitment. Part of him wondered if just springing a proposal on her was the best plan of action. But he knew that Sarah often got nervous when he talked about hypotheticals. She seemed to respond better to something clear-cut, something that required her to take action.

And he was tired of waiting. Tired of waiting to show her just how serious he was about her. He'd spent most of their relationship afraid to push her, afraid to step up, because he didn't want to rock the boat. But he knew what he wanted with her. It felt to him like it was time to find out if she wanted the same things he did.

He might not have a ring or a fancy proposal, but all he needed was her.

Sarah let out a soft little sigh, her face scrunching up in a very adorable way. Chuck couldn't help chuckling softly at her expression. She made all his worries vanish just by being herself. He leaned in to press a soft kiss to her lips.

She responded slowly, coming awake as he kissed her. He pulled back to see her pouting a little at him. "Why'd you wake me up?" she said, her voice a bit groggy. "I was having a nice dream."

"Yeah?" he asked, stroking her hair again. "What was it about?"

"If I tell you, it won't come true," she said, smiling up at him. "Everyone knows that."

"That's very true," he said, wrapping his arms around her. Her words had given him an idea, a way to start this. "I had a dream last night, too."

"Mm-hmm?" Sarah asked, shifting a little in order to lift one of her arms. She ran her fingers through his hair. "Are you feeling better? Ready for the Intersect?" Her voice was soft as her eyes searched his face.

He nodded. "Yeah, I feel good. As ready as I'll ever be." Her fingers in his hair felt so good . . . it would be so easy to slip into cuddling and kissing, putting off talking to her. But that had been their mistake before, so Chuck took a deep breath. "I had a dream last night, too," he repeated.

Sarah looked up at him, her forehead wrinkling a little. "A bad one? Do you want to talk about it?"

"No, no, it wasn't bad," he said quickly. "Not for me, at least." He swallowed, wishing he had drunk some water first, or even brushed his teeth. "I . . . I was dreaming about a wedding. The perfect wedding, from the guests to the setting to the bride."

A strange anticipation filled him, equal parts dread and excitement. "I could see her coming down the aisle towards me, and all I felt was this wave of love and hope and joy."

As she listened to him, Sarah seemed to tense up. Her eyes had widened and her lips had fallen apart, creating a look of wonder on her face. Like she knew something special was about to happen and she couldn't believe it.

Chuck gazed at her, knowing that he was about to step off a precipice. He could only hope that Sarah was going to catch him, just like she always did. "Sarah, will-"

Before he could ask her the most important question he'd ever asked anyone, the door to their room banged open.

"Bartowski, Walker, get up!" Casey barked, striding into the room.

"What-?" Chuck had time to ask as Sarah sat up, before Casey had crossed over to the bed and yanked him up.

"Roark's dead!" Casey said, pulling him to his feet. "There's a mole and we don't know how much they know-but they're moving to break in and get the Intersect for themselves."

Sarah shoved her shoes on, looking every inch like Agent Walker in spite of her rumpled clothes and messy hair. "What's the response?"

"Lockdown," Casey said. "You're supposed to watch Orion and the rest of the scientists. I've got Chuck."

Chuck swallowed and looked around, only for Sarah to shove his sneakers into his hands. He quickly pulled them on, his mind whirling. He had enough time to look at Sarah, who happened to be looking at him in the same moment. He managed to mouth "I love you" and see her smile before Casey manhandled him out of the room.

"Here," Casey said gruffly, handing Chuck a gun that he recognized as one of Casey's Sig Sauers. "Gotta get you to the secure location, then we'll wait for the sign that Fulcrum's been neutralized."

His heart was pounding and his hands felt sweaty. Chuck quickly rubbed one hand on his jeans and held on to the gun, following Casey as he looked around, trying to make sure they stayed safe.

If Fulcrum was attacking the CIA so blatantly, they must feel like they had nothing to lose. And if they got in and gained the Intersect for themselves, Fulcrum would have hit the jackpot. And the CIA would be set back months in their fight against the terrorists. Right now, he was more of an asset to be protected-just like Beckman had said, the CIA couldn't risk him being captured.

Chuck swallowed as he followed Casey into a small room. Casey hit a switch, opening a hidden door. "Where are we going?" Chuck asked.

"Taking the tunnel to your hideout," Casey said, grabbing a flashlight and handing it to him. "Once we're there, we'll blow the tunnel. No way for someone to follow us this way, and the hideout's so far away, they won't be able to connect the dots."

He nodded. "And Sarah? She's guarding my dad?"

"She's on the team watching out for your dad and the other scientists, not to mention the Intersect room. Headin' off Fulcrum if they get that far."

Swallowing, Chuck took a deep breath. He hated being separated from Sarah like this, but they both had jobs to do. Right now, his was to go with Casey and stay safe until Fulcrum could be eliminated. "Okay. Let's go."

Casey gave him a quick glance. "Sorry about barging in, Bartowski." He picked up a flashlight and gestured for him to go first into the tunnel.

"It's okay, Casey," Chuck said, the words catching in his throat a little. It wasn't really okay, but what could he say? "No, wait, I need to finish proposing to my girlfriend and fellow agent"?

As they moved through the dark tunnel, Chuck found himself wondering if he'd get a chance to finish that proposal.

End, Chapter 15


	16. Chapter 16

Some of the first training a spy learned was compartmentalization. It was the skill to take two opposing ideas, thoughts or emotions and prevent conflict between them. It was how spies could be double agents and not get caught, how someone could withstand torture by locking away their core essence to prevent giving in, or something as simple as doing one thing when every instinct told you to do something else. It was a vital skill for any spy to learn. A spy who couldn't compartmentalize risked mental breakdowns, mission failures, or even death.

Thanks to her father, Sarah Walker was already well-trained in how to compartmentalize before she was recruited by the CIA. Back then, it had been reassuring to learn that there was a word for what she could do almost as easily as breathing. She wasn't an emotionless freak, some ice queen who didn't know how to feel. She just knew how to push aside her emotions, to hide behind a mask.

But right now, at this moment, it took every inch of her training and her logic to make her follow orders and do her duty. Because what she really wanted to do was go with Chuck and Casey.

Sarah made her way through the controlled chaos of a CIA facility on high alert lockdown. She was grateful that when she made the decision to sit up with Chuck, she had changed from her suit into a pair of jeans and a long-sleeved t-shirt. Together with her boots, she was much better equipped for whatever might happen.

She had a holster of knives around her right ankle and a fully-loaded Smith & Wesson. It should be enough to get her to the Intersect complex, where Orion and several scientists would be waiting. At least, she hoped so.

If this was a false alarm, heads would roll. But Sarah doubted that Fulcrum wasn't preparing an attack. The murder of Ted Roark implied that they were giving up on creating their own Intersect; it was the CIA's version or nothing. So protecting the Intersect Room, protecting Orion and safeguarding Chuck were critical.

In her heart of hearts, she wished she had gotten Casey's assignment. But given that Graham had gotten visual confirmation, thanks to the contact between Chuck and herself, that they were a couple, she wasn't surprised that he had ordered them split up. It was standard operating procedure when there were questions about an agent's objectivity. Her judgement could be flawed. She might freeze up if Chuck's life was on the line, being too scared of what would happen if she missed.

But she wouldn't let that happen. Her emotions, her worry about Chuck, helped her focus. It went against all her training, but she knew that her feelings for Chuck gave her more power. Yes, she had to push aside her surprise at what she thought Chuck was going to ask her just before Casey barged into their room. Her mind had to be clear, rational and focused on her goal: protecting Orion and protecting the Intersect. And if the threat was directed towards Chuck, she would do anything to keep him safe. In this case, her emotions made her better and stronger and more determined than ever.

After moving past several agents who were moving through the hallways, she finally reached the stairwell that would take her down the six levels to the Intersect room. As she hurried down the stairs, her boot heels thudded against each step. By the time she reached the eighth sub-level, she had just broken a sweat but her breathing was still controlled.

Peering out the stairwell door, she didn't see anything but an empty corridor. She slowly eased out into the hallway, her gun at the ready, as she moved towards the Intersect room. Her eyes darted around, looking for any signs of Fulcrum agents. But everything seemed clear, so she picked up her pace until she reached the labs.

When Sarah stepped inside, she found a few agents gathered in a clump by the doors, while the scientists were all bent over their work tables. After spending so much time with Chuck, she wasn't surprised that the scientists were still working; they were probably too distracted to even realize something was going on. At least that would help keep panic to a minimum, if they didn't even notice that there was a lockdown in place.

She nodded to the agents and introduced herself, since none of them were familiar to her. "Agent Walker. What do we have?" she asked, keeping her voice low.

An older agent acknowledged her, saying brusquely, "Just watching everyone here. We'll do hourly patrols, sending out two agents."

"Sounds good," Sarah said. She stepped back, taking another look around the room. Only yesterday she had walked through here with Chuck, on their way to the Intersect room. But she hadn't gotten a good look at the area until now. It was a large laboratory, with plenty of space but not much in the way of amenities. Lacking anything better to do and not really interested in chit-chatting with the other agents, she started walking around the exterior of the room, taking everything in.

To her relief, two of the doors that opened off the lab were bathrooms. There was a small kitchenette as well, but there was practically no food in it. Two other doors were locked but probably led to offices, she suspected. A final doorway lead into a long hallway that she knew went to the Intersect room. She looked into the room briefly and saw Chuck's father tinkering away at the room's center console. Not wanting to disturb him, she went back into the lab.

Once she completed her exploration, Sarah took a seat on a rickety chair in one corner of the room. She took a few deep breaths, trying to stay focused. Now that she was here, she wasn't really sure what she should do. And without any activities, it left her mind open to thinking about things that could be very distracting.

Shaking her head, Sarah made herself stay busy by scanning the room, evaluating the scientists, and watching the agents. She had to stay focused. There were people counting on her. If she wanted to get through this and find out what Chuck was going to ask her, she had to give this assignment her best.

XXX

Two hours had elapsed before Orion came out of the Intersect room. He looked around, his expression confused, before he saw Sarah. She stood up as he shuffled over her. "Agent Walker," he said, "what are you doing here? And where's Chuck?"

Part of her wanted to ask him to call her Sarah. To have him treat her like his son's girlfriend and not a CIA agent. Shaking her head, she pushed aside that random thought, trying to stay professional. "We're in lockdown. We got word that Ted Roark was killed while he was in custody, so the agency moved to protect you, the Intersect, and Chuck."

"Oh," Stephen said, running a hand over his hair. "How long are we in here for?"

Thankfully, her boredom with waiting had lead to conversation with the other agents. That conversation had given her enough info to be able to answer him. "I'm not sure, but we're hoping just another hour or so," Sarah said, trying to hold back a yawn.

It had been around six, she thought, when Chuck woke her up. Since she hadn't fallen asleep until after one, she was wishing she had a large cup of coffee right about now. Normally, by now she'd be walking into the office and Chuck would be holding out a mug to her, one that he had fixed just how she liked it-

She had to stop this. Squeezing her eyes shut, she made herself breathe deeply, trying to find her center. Losing her focus was just what Fulcrum would want. She needed to stay sharp in order to protect Stephen and the other scientists here.

"Sarah?"

At the sound of her voice, she opened her eyes to find Mr. Bartowski looking at her, concern in his eyes. "Is everything all right?"

How could she answer that question? Could she tell him that she was pretty sure Chuck was starting to propose to her when the lockdown order came? Or explain how worried she was, how frightened that she might lose Chuck just when they had finally found each other, making their relationship better than she could have ever hoped? Not to mention the fact that Chuck's own father hadn't warned him about the changes in the new version of the Intersect, changes that in her mind upped the risk factor for the whole program?

She couldn't tell him all that. Not when she barely knew him. But . . . but maybe she could talk to him. Get to know him a little. Maybe even find out something about Chuck . . .

Running a hand through her hair, she gave him her best attempt at a smile. "Just a little worried about what's going on. It's hard not knowing anything. But if you wouldn't mind keeping me company . . ."

Stephen nodded and looked around the room. Spotting a chair, he dragged a chair over and sat down before giving her an encouraging smile. Sarah couldn't help smiling back and taking her seat again. "Thanks," she said softly.

"You're welcome." Stephen rested his hands on his knees, looking unused to not doing anything. It reminded her of Chuck, in those rare moments of downtime they sometimes had. When he didn't have something to keep his hands busy and his brain occupied, he always looked a little lost. Seeing the similarity between father and son was eye-opening.

Sarah looked around the room, seeing that no one was paying them any attention, then turned to Stephen. She spoke softly, not wanting their conversation to be overheard. "What was Chuck like? When he was a little boy?"

Chuck's father smiled widely. "So you really do have it bad."

She felt her cheeks flush. Fortunately, Stephen didn't press her further on her feelings. "He was always charging ahead. He got so excited when he found something interesting. When he made mistakes, he'd always say how sorry he was. How he hoped we still loved him even though he had messed up."

As Stephen kept talking, his voice full of pride and admiration for his son, Sarah felt waves of conflicting emotions. The spy part of her protested at letting her guard down, getting swept up by the feelings sparked by Stephen's stories. She knew that she should be thinking about her job, staying professional. At the very least, that voice told her, she should be trying to direct the conversation to learning more about Orion's early work on the Intersect and how it impacted his family.

But for once, Sarah didn't want to be Agent Walker. She wanted to be Sarah, who was contemplating making a huge commitment to another person and now had the chance to find out more about that person. Details that he'd never tell her, being too modest or too unaware of his abilities and appeal. Because everything that Stephen was telling her, all the stories and memories, they added to and filled out her image of Chuck. He was kind and thoughtful, impulsive and overly talkative, smart and funny and handsome yet completely oblivious to how attractive those qualities were. When he cared about someone, he put their happiness above everything else. He doubted himself more than he should yet had flashes of confidence that in anyone else would be arrogance.

There were all these different pieces that made him who he was. He was Chuck. He loved her. And he wanted to marry her.

Stephen shifted in his chair after he finished telling her a story about Chuck and his first computer. "Since I came back, Chuck and I haven't really talked much. He-he has a lot of anger about me leaving."

Licking her lips, Sarah nodded. "Chuck's not someone who wants to be angry with anyone. He's so willing to forgive and forget."

The older Bartowski nodded back. "I know." He gave her a sheepish smile. "But we talked some yesterday and maybe while the new Intersect is being tested, the two of us can work things out."

"I hope so," Sarah said, then she hesitated. Should she put words in Chuck's mouth and guess at what he was feeling when it came to his father? Or should she stay out of this? Before she was conscious of her decision, she found herself speaking again. "And I think Chuck's hoping for that, too."

"You're kind to say that," Stephen said as he stood up. "I think I need to get back to work. Do you need anything?"

Sarah shook her head. "No, I'm fine." She gave him a small smile. "Thanks for the company."

He patted her shoulder lightly. "You're welcome." Then he shuffled off, stopping to have a few quiet conversations on his way to the Intersect room.

Rising as well, Sarah walked over to the agents who were milling around by the doorway. "Any further news?"

The agent in charge shook his head. "Nope. Here's hoping they haven't forgotten about us."

She chuckled a little. "That'd be ironic." She nodded to all the agents and started walking around the room again, too distracted to sit quietly. There was so much in her head right now that she wasn't sure if she'd ever get everything calmed down.

Maybe . . . maybe it was time to really think about what had happened in their room before the lockdown was ordered.

Taking a deep breath, Sarah schooled her face into a blank expression. She kept walking around the room, trying to look every inch the prepared, focused spy. She still had a job to do-at least she could look the part, even if her mind wasn't on her work.

Chuck had started to propose to her. She was certain of that. From talking about his dream of the perfect wedding to the way he had been looking at her . . .

Remembering that look, Sarah got butterflies. She didn't feel ready to think about getting married. The last week had been a whirlwind, between Ellie's wedding and preparing for the Intersect upgrade. There hadn't been much time for her to consider the discovery that Chuck was considering marriage. She hadn't anticipated that he was so ready to propose.

Or perhaps she had just missed the signs. Because this was Chuck. He had always been eager for commitment, from their first days together. Now that their relationship was on more solid ground, and they were happy and sharing an apartment in everything but name, it shouldn't have surprised her that he wouldn't want to wait. That he'd want to take that next step.

And at least she had some idea, thanks to finding that silly-looking book in his apartment. She couldn't imagine how she would have reacted if he had proposed and she didn't know he was thinking about it. It would have gone badly, she admitted to herself. Because she would have been even more surprised and awed and scared and happy than she was now.

Sarah had never considered that she might get married someday. Even before she was recruited, it didn't seem possible that someone would want to marry her. Of course, she knew that part of that was her teenage insecurities, but deep down, she had doubted that she'd be willing to be permanently tied to another person. In her own life, she hadn't seen any evidence that such a connection could really last. So if a marriage was bound to end, why get married in the first place?

But such reasonable logic didn't seem to have much place in her life right now. Because being with Chuck was all about ignoring logic. If she was being logical, they would have kept their relationship completely hidden from view. They would have had a traditional partners relationship, one that was based mostly on adrenaline-fueled sex. If and when their careers took different paths, leading to a separation, their romantic relationship wouldn't have been deemed a factor. They could go their separate ways without any blemishes on their records. And with anyone else, she probably would have done that. But such cold judgement on a relationship with Chuck wasn't possible. Not because Chuck had made her fall completely in love with him . . . she had changed.

She wasn't that girl who doubted she could be loved. She was a woman and she was much more confident that she could be loved. Not because she was pretty and attractive now, but because she had grown into a person with skills and interests and talents. Now she was more than her looks or her job. In the last year, Sarah knew that she had become more well-rounded, more of a person who wasn't just a spy. That was what made her feel like she could be loved now.

And even better, she could love in return. What she felt for Chuck made her dizzy at times, all the swirling emotions and thoughts in her head and her heart. But contrary to all her history, she liked it. The uncertainty and the risk of caring so deeply for someone wasn't something she could have handled before, but she could now. At least, she was hoping that was the case. Because she wanted to love Chuck the way he deserved to be loved. That was all she wanted right now. So if she had to accept the turmoil in order to get the good stuff, she'd find a way to deal with it.

A small smile twisted her lips for a moment as she kept walking and thinking. For all her expertise at compartmentalization, it was becoming clear that from now on, she was going to be a lot more selective in using that skill. Because by keeping her emotions shut up in the back of her brain, she had missed out on so much of her life. She wasn't about to give up her job, not when she was good at it and she could bring justice or punishment to the people who deserved either. But being a spy was about more than cold logic and kicking ass: it was about heart and empathy. That need to connect with the people she was helping hadn't been entirely stamped out by her training and her experiences. From now on, she would like it to be a little more sympathy for others and a little less reason.

Thinking about her job at the same time as she considered her future with Chuck, a sudden, horrible thought nearly stopped her in her tracks. If they were married, what would that mean for her partnership with Chuck? Would they be allowed to keep working together?

Sarah took a deep breath, trying to stay calm. She didn't know enough about how the CIA treated agents who married each other, but she could guess that it was frowned upon. And when the CIA frowned upon something, it usually did its best to either ignore the situation or punish those that they saw as the guilty parties. Graham's warning about Chuck being CIA property rang in her ears, reminding her that even though the director supported her, he couldn't break the rules for her. If they got married, her career might get sidelined if they wanted to stay together in the same geographic area. It was hard for a woman in the CIA; Sarah knew it was more likely that she'd deal with the negative impacts more than Chuck would, even if he tried to carry the burden with her.

Would it be enough, to be married to Chuck but not work with him? To not have it all? She didn't know the answer to that question. There were so many options: marry Chuck but accept they wouldn't work together, or one of them-probably her-could quit the CIA, or even not get married at all in order to keep working together . . .

It wasn't likely that Chuck would accept that last option, she thought ruefully. And neither of the other two choices were much better. One or both of them would end up working in a situation that was less challenging than what they currently had now.

Her footsteps slowed as an alternative entered her mind. One that was perhaps fueled by desperation, but it was an option. They could both quit. And if the CIA didn't let Chuck leave, they wouldn't let that stop them.

Going rogue, trying to elude the CIA . . . some would say it was madness. Even Sarah had to admit that the risk probably outstripped the reward. They would spend the rest of their lives on the move, always looking over their shoulders. Chuck would never get to see his sister or his best friend again. And . . . and if they wanted to create their own family, there was no way they could actually do so.

Sarah swallowed. She didn't think Chuck would be willing to give up so much, just to be with her. Even if there was the bonus of being free of the Intersect, free of CIA rules . . . no. It wouldn't be fair to him, to both of them. She couldn't ask him to cut all his ties just because she was worried about her career. And that wasn't what she wanted, either. She had spent most of her childhood moving around, never feeling settled or sure of herself. She wasn't willing to go back to that life.

If the CIA split their partnership up once they got married, sending them to the opposite ends of the earth, they'd adjust. They'd have to learn, because she wasn't ready to give up on Chuck, on them. They could figure things out. But they'd do it together.

Still, there was no harm in being prepared. In having some money stashed away and some clean identities. Something to protect them in case things went very, very wrong. Because after everything they had gone through, after what she had learned about herself and the kind of person she wanted to be, she knew she didn't want a life without Chuck. And if the CIA tried to split them up, she wouldn't let them.

"Agent Walker?"

The voice of another agent startled her, but she managed to hide her reaction. "Yes?" she said, crossing the lab to join them.

The agent jerked his thumb towards the door. "Your turn to go on patrol."

"Okay," she said, nodding to the other agent who would be joining her on patrol. Together, they stepped out into the hallway, moving cautiously.

Sarah breathed slowly, putting aside all her thoughts about Chuck, her career and her future. Now, more than ever, she had to do her job and not let her emotions interfere. She could do it, but she was looking forward to getting back to her introspection. Without having Chuck available to talk to, to see if he would finish what he was starting to ask her, getting lost in her thoughts was her next-best option.

XXX

By the end of the fourth hour of lockdown, Sarah was starting to feel like she was losing her mind a little bit. The twenty minutes on patrol had given her a change of scenery at least, but once she was back in the lab, she felt too distracted to think and too jittery to do anything but pace. The arrival of Langston Graham saved her from seeing if she really could climb the walls.

"Stand down, people," he said as he entered the lab. "You can go back to your normal business."

Sarah sighed in relief and stepped over to him. "Did Fulcrum break through?"

Graham shook his head. "Seems like it was more of a false alarm. Some analysts got over-eager when they looked at some intelligence."

That was unusual, Sarah thought, but then, everyone seemed to be antsy when it came to Fulcrum. And now that she knew it was safe, all she wanted was to find Chuck. "Director? What about-"

"Agent Walker, you can now retrieve the rest of your team," Graham said, eyeing her as if he dared her to dispute that was what she was about to ask him. "There's a car and a map at the south entrance."

The smile that lit up her face took her by surprise-and Graham, too, judging by his expression. "Thank you!"

Without wasting any time, Sarah made a beeline through the building, heading towards the south entrance. At the receptionist's desk, there were a set of car keys and a map in an envelope waiting for her. She snatched up both and found a Buick waiting for her outside.

She knew she had to drive in a manner that wouldn't attract attention. So even though she wanted to push the limits of this piece of Detroit steel, Sarah made herself drive cautiously, following the directions on the map to a strip mall about two miles away.

At the bottom of the map was scrawled "Bachetti Brothers Dry Cleaners-ask for Mr. Edgar." Looking around, she noted that store name was prominently displayed on a store at one end of the shopping center. She parked the car in front of the store and pocketed the keys before walking into the dry cleaners.

The sound upon entering was almost deafening; it seemed like the dry-cleaning plant was on-site, leading to a noisy, humid environment. An elderly woman was sitting on a stool by the cash register, reading the _Washington Times_ and frowning. A name tag pinned to her dress read "Erma."

"Excuse me?" Sarah asked. When the woman gave no sign of hearing her, she raised her voice, too impatient to feign politeness. "Excuse me!"

"I ain't deaf, missy," the woman said, looking at her over the tops of her glasses. "What d'you want?"

"I'm looking for Mr. Edgar," Sarah said, not willing to be baited by the woman.

Erma sighed heavily and folded her paper, setting it on the counter. "Follow me."

Sarah followed her through the maze of racks and machinery to the back of the store. At a heavy iron door, Erma pulled out a ring of keys and unlocked the door, pulling it open. The hinges squealed as the door was pulled back, revealing another door set flush against the wall with an electronic keypad above the doorknob.

Erma placed her body between the keypad and Sarah, preventing her from seeing the code. After a moment, there was a beep and Erma pulled the door open. "There you go," she said, nodding towards a circular staircase behind the door.

"Thank you," she said, returning Erma's nod. Sarah climbed down the stairs, moving carefully in the dimly-lit conditions. When she reached the bottom of the stairs, she heard two things: the click of a safety being taken off and Chuck's enthusiastic greeting.

"Sarah!" He threw his arms around her as soon as she cleared the staircase, squeezing her tightly. "It's good to see you."

It might not be proper, but Sarah didn't care about proper right now. She hugged him back, taking a moment to savor holding him, before stepping back. "Hey, Chuck." She nodded to Casey, who had put the safety back on his gun with a snort.

"'Bout time you got here-Bartowski's been like a puppy, practically begging for somethin' to do." He grinned slightly. "I'm surprised he just threw himself at you instead of tryin' to hump your leg."

"Hey," Chuck said, looking at Casey with an arched eyebrow. "Who was the one who broke down and found the deck of cards after an hour? I wasn't the only one feeling bored."

"If I had known you only knew how to play Texas Hold 'Em, I might not have bothered," Casey said. But there was no venom in his voice; as strange as it seemed, it looked like Casey and Chuck were being friendly. Of course Chuck was always eager to get along with people. It was more surprising that Casey had decided to drop his tough-guy act. But then, Sarah thought with a smile, Chuck was awfully engaging.

"I've got a car outside, ready to take us back to headquarters, unless you guys want to stay and finish your game," Sarah said, grinning at the two men.

"I think we're ready to go," Chuck said, smiling back at her. The three of them quickly put the room back to rights, then Sarah lead the way out of the safe room. It wasn't until they were in the car, Chuck in the passenger seat next to her and Casey in the back, that they started talking.

"So what happened?" Chuck asked, turning in his seat to look at Sarah as she drove.

She shrugged. "Graham seemed to think it was a false alarm-a misread on some intelligence."

Casey snorted. "Even the analysts are gettin' jumpy. Guess Fulcrum's really scared some people."

"The CIA aren't the only ones. Fulcrum's running scared," Chuck commented. "They're desperate and panicking, and that's not a good combination."

"No, it's not, but in the same breath, going into lockdown gives the same impression of us," Sarah said.

Chuck nodded in acquiescence, then fell into silence. Glancing over at him, she saw that he was lost in thought, so she chatted with Casey for the short drive back to headquarters.

"At least Roark won't be a problem," Casey said.

"True," Sarah said. "But it just shows how desperate they are."

"Yeah. Hey, next time we go into lockdown, you protect Bartowski and I'll handle Fulcrum," Casey said as she parked the car.

Sarah chuckled. "You'd like taking care of them your way, huh?"

Casey gave her a bloodthirsty grin. "Yep." He got out of the car and slammed the door so hard that the car shook. Sarah rolled her eyes at his macho attitude, but she could understand it. Sometimes, she wished she could just attack Fulcrum and wipe them out, instead of the cloak and dagger approach. Especially now, with the terrorist organization taking bigger risks and posing a greater threat.

"Did Graham say anything about changing up the schedule?" Chuck asked as he joined them outside the car.

She shook her head. "No, he didn't mention anything. So I guess everything's still on time."

Chuck nodded, still looking thoughtful. They stepped into the CIA building, heading towards the elevators, but Casey paused.

"I booked time on the range," Casey said. "Here's hoping they kept my slot open even though I'm gonna be late. See you." And with that, he was heading towards the shooting range, leaving Sarah and Chuck alone.

A fluttering in her stomach made Sarah realize that she was nervous. Chuck's unfinished question seemed to hang in the air between them and she wasn't sure if she should broach the subject. With all her thinking this morning, she still wasn't a hundred percent sure what her answer would be if he was to propose. It was easy to say that she wanted to be with Chuck, but it was a lot harder to say out loud that she would marry him. And really, she was only assuming that he was going to propose. It might be something else entirely that he wanted to ask her. If she went with her instincts, she'd say that yes, it certainly looked like that was what he was going to ask her. But lacking any confirmation, maybe it would be best to let him bring the issue back up.

After his enthusiastic greeting inside the safe house, Chuck had gone quiet, like he was thinking something over. She looked at him as they waited for the elevator, then lightly touched his arm. "Everything okay, Chuck?"

He startled a little, then looked at her with a small, sheepish smile on his face. "Sorry. A lot to think about."

She nodded, smiling back at him. "Yeah, I know. Your dad was down in the lab when I left to pick up you and Casey-do you want to go talk to him?"

"Yeah . . ." he said slowly, his eyes focusing on her. "But maybe after that, we could have lunch?"

The ding of the elevator arriving and the process of getting in the car, gave Sarah a moment to think. Would he try to finish his proposal, if that was what he was going to ask her this morning?

Sarah wasn't sure she knew the answer to that question. But lunch was still at least an hour or two away. She would have time to think about what she wanted. So she nodded. "Yeah, that sounds good."

Since they were alone in the elevator, Chuck smiled and kissed her cheek quickly. "Great. Where do you want to eat?"

"I could get something from the cafeteria and we could eat in our rooms," Sarah suggested. If Chuck wanted to talk, being in private would be best, she thought.

"That works," Chuck said. "What . . . what are you going to do, while I talk to my dad?"

"Probably do some more Fulcrum research," she said. "And I'd like to get in and see Director Graham, learn more about what happened this morning."

"Why?" he asked, looking at her. "What did happen here?"

"Nothing," she said, frowning. "We all just sat around until Graham gave the all-clear." She shook her head. "I have a strange feeling about the sequence of events that lead to the lockdown."

Chuck smiled at her. "I thought spies didn't trust their instincts."

"Any spy who says that is lying," Sarah said with a smile. The elevator doors opened at the sub-level with their rooms and she gave him a quick kiss. "See you around one?"

"See you then," Chuck said after kissing her back.

Sarah gave him a small wave as the elevator doors closed, pleased at the big smile he gave her. It gave her a small boost as she turned and walked towards their suite. Even though she was a bit apprehensive about Chuck possibly proposing, she couldn't deny that she loved him. That the thought of settling down with him wasn't scaring her. At least, not as much as she expected it would.

Maybe she should live up to her statement about trusting her instincts. Because it was true: as much as you planned and prepared for a mission, there were times when you had to make a split-second decision, based on your instincts and your feel for the situation. Rather than going over and over in her head whether she should say yes or not, perhaps she should just wait and see how she felt in the moment.

Shaking her head, she smiled to herself. She had come a long way from how she was when she first met Chuck. When they had met, she had been nothing but plans and goals. But spending just a few hours in his company had been enough for her to forget her mission and kiss him. And while she would love to get lost in her memories, not to mention think about her possible future, she did have work to do. She was curious about just why they had gone into lockdown this morning and she wanted to learn more. So it was time to get to work.

XXX

With a frustrated groan, Sarah pushed away from her computer. She'd spent two hours working on the question of why this morning's supposed Fulcrum attack felt a little bit off to her.

Graham was too busy to see her, but had managed five minutes on the phone for her. He said the lockdown was inspired by an abundance of caution. They were so close to getting the Intersect 2.0 uploaded into Chuck that they didn't want to jeopardize it now, he had said. Since it wouldn't be possible to upload the new Intersect to Chuck quickly, any attack would have to delay the upload. In the eyes of the CIA, that left Chuck vulnerable, she knew. But a delay would be infinitely better than Fulcrum getting in and taking the Intersect for themselves. So the powers that be were more concerned about preventing Fulcrum from gaining the Intersect, even if it meant putting off Chuck's upgrade.

If only to get her to go away, she suspected, Graham had authorized her access to some of the latest raw intelligence. The data from the last twenty-four hours all seemed to point towards Fulcrum preparing to make a move against the CIA in order to capture the Intersect. Of course, no one knew exactly what the terrorists were planning; it had been the analysts who predicted that Fulcrum was most likely to attempt the attack in order to take over the Intersect. Sarah knew that it was just one option for Fulcrum, and while she understand the analysts' logic, that didn't mean she agreed with it. There were plenty of other options for Fulcrum and she didn't buy the notion that they would put all their eggs in one basket. At least, she didn't think Fulcrum would attack in a way the CIA could predict.

No, things just didn't feel right, but she couldn't put her finger on what exactly was wrong. She knew it was paranoid of her, but she'd pulled up the surveillance from the labs so she could keep an eye on Chuck, making sure he was all right. But perhaps it was time to admit that she was jumping at shadows. Worrying about Fulcrum was a pretty good way of keeping herself distracted from Chuck's possible proposal, she admitted. But now it was nearly time for her lunch with Chuck, so she should go pick up some food as she had promised.

Standing up, Sarah stretched her hands above her head and then headed towards the elevator, going to the building's cafeteria on the ground level. She knew that Chuck liked the macaroni and cheese they served, so he'd be happy to see that for his lunch. From the way she was feeling, nervous and worried about Fulcrum and what Chuck had to say to her, she knew she would be lucky if she could stomach a salad.

She let her mind drift a little, pondering the thought of being engaged. Her time looking through bridal magazines to help Chuck with Ellie's wedding had certainly given her a few ideas. That was enough to keep her mind occupied as she walked to the cafeteria, picked up their lunch, and walked back towards their rooms. At the doorway to their suite, she paused to juggle the containers of food while she searched for her key card. Idly, she glanced down the hall and saw someone-a woman-walk past. Sarah noticed the blonde hair on the woman, the unnaturally brassy shade catching her attention. The woman looked down the hallway and Sarah got a momentary glimpse of her face.

It was like time slowed down for Sarah. She felt a flash of recognition, the feeling that she knew who that woman was, but she couldn't immediately place her. Finally fishing out her key card out of her pocket, she opened the door, frowning as she stepped inside. Why did that woman look familiar?

Casey looked up from his computer and nodded to her when she came in. "Walker."

"Hey, Casey," she said distractedly, setting down the food and going over to her computer. The surveillance window showed Chuck talking to his father, standing at the doorway to the lab. It looked like he was getting ready to leave and join her for lunch. She kept the window open, watching with one eye as she took advantage of a shortcut she had learned once from an over-eager tech. Within a few moments, she had access to a large number of video feeds from throughout the building.

"What's up, Walker?" Casey had wheeled his chair over to look over her shoulder.

"I saw someone out in the hall and I just got a weird feeling," Sarah said. "On top of the one I have about the lockdown this morning."

"Was a bit hinky, us shuttin' down like that," Casey agreed. "You'd expect it for another September 11th, not some punks like Fulcrum."

"Yeah," she said, moving through the different cameras in order to capture the woman's progress. She finally got a hit on an elevator camera. "There she is."

Casey leaned in, his eyes narrowed. "Yeah . . . yeah, I've seen her before."

"But where?" Sarah asked, frowning.

It wasn't until the woman turned around, gazing directly at the camera for several seconds, that Sarah realized who it was. "Sylvia," she said, turning to Casey. "It's the Fulcrum operative from our mission in the suburbs."

"Son of a bitch," Casey said, nodding. "I thought her brains got scrambled from that Intersect."

"I guess not," Sarah said, staring at the screen.

"How the hell did a Fulcrum agent get in here?" Casey asked, standing up and checking his gun.

"They made us lower our guard with the "attack" this morning," Sarah said, her mind moving at a million miles per hour even as she reached down to touch her knives. "It's the perfect cover for sneaking in their agents for the actual attack."

"You think there's more of 'em?"

"There has to be," Sarah said, snatching up the phone and dialing the extension for the lab that adjoined the Intersect room. She needed Chuck to be prepared for Fulcrum. But before the call could connect, the phone went dead and both video feeds on her computer suddenly went black.

"There's more of 'em," Casey said, answering his question. "Damn it, we gotta move. Where was she going?"

"She was in an elevator," Sarah said, checking her knives. "Going down." She frowned, then looked at Casey. "If she was going deeper into the sub-levels, she might know where the Intersect is."

"And that's where she'd be going. Where all of them would be heading."

Sarah nodded. "Let's move." She grabbed her gun and slid it into the back of her trousers. As she followed Casey out of the suite and into the now dimly-lit hallways, she wished she had gotten through to Chuck. Gotten a chance to talk to him, to warn him about what was coming.

Trust Fulcrum to once again wreck their lives. By invading the building, they were preventing Chuck from finishing his proposal. They'd faced so many interruptions and roadblocks and she was tired of it. As soon as they were done with Fulcrum, she wasn't going to let anything stop them from having the conversation that she really wanted to have with Chuck. The conversation where they'd plan their futures. Together.


	17. Chapter 17

It had been a long time since Chuck had really seen his father at work. Actually, his childhood memories couldn't compare to what he saw now. Back then, he didn't understand what his father was working on. He just knew it was something to do with computers-computers that Chuck wasn't allowed to touch. Now, though, watching his father was very different.

Stephen truly was brilliant. It seemed like he knew more about computers than Chuck would ever know. On top of that, his mind worked so differently, finding connections that no one else had noticed. It was both enlightening and troubling, Chuck thought as he watched his father work on the Intersect. For someone so smart, he was pretty dumb when it came to anything other than computers. Stephen had let down both Chuck and Ellie in the past so many times. And although he knew his father was trying, Chuck felt reservations about trusting him again. Not after his father had held back on the true nature of the Intersect 2.0.

He glanced at his watch. There was only a half-hour until he was due to meet Sarah for lunch-a meeting that would help shape his future, based on the question he had for her. So it seemed like a good idea to deal with one of the biggest issues from his past.

"Dad?"

"Hmm?" Stephen said, his voice distracted.

Hearing that really took Chuck back to being seven and wanting his father's attention. Taking a deep breath, he reminded himself that he was a grown man, not a pesky kid. He deserved his father's attention.

"Dad, can we talk?" he asked, laying his hand on Stephen's shoulder.

Stephen shook his head and looked at Chuck, then nodded. "Yeah, yeah." He crawled out from his spot underneath the Intersect console. "We-we can go talk in the lab, if you want to sit down."

"That sounds good," Chuck said, feeling a bit awkward. He turned and headed towards the lab that adjoined the Intersect room, taking a seat in one of the chairs that were scattered at the far end of the room.

"Did you know that Sarah and I sat right here and talked earlier today?" Stephen asked, sounding a bit nervous as he sat down.

"You did?" Chuck felt surprise, then embarrassment. Just what had they talked about? Did Sarah have some idea that he was going to propose to her? Wait, of course she had some idea-she was smart, insightful. And the way she had been reacting seemed obvious that she knew he was getting ready to ask her something important. Had Sarah mentioned his aborted question?

The older Bartowski nodded. "Yeah. She wanted to know what you were like as a little boy." Stephen smiled fondly. "She's a special young woman."

Chuck felt his ears go red. "Y-yeah, she is," he said, shifting in his chair. "I . . . I love her."

Stephen nodded, his smile staying in place. "She really seems to care about you. I'm happy for you both."

"Thanks, Dad," Chuck said, gathering his thoughts. He wiped his clammy hands on his jeans, trying to find the right words to shift the conversation. "I'm glad you like her. She's really stood by me while I've been dealing with the Intersect." He paused and decided to just plunge right in. "After you left, you stayed in touch with Ellie and me. Birthday cards, phone calls. But then you just stopped. And I was wondering-I mean, it'd be good to know why you just . . . why you stopped talking to us."

His father sighed, looking regretful. "I'm sorry about that, Chuck."

"I know you are, Dad. But I'd still like an answer," Chuck said, hoping his voice sounded firm instead of pleading.

Stephen hunched over in his chair, his eyes darting around the room. When he spoke, his voice was so low that Chuck had to lean in so he could hear him.

"I left . . . it was so long ago, Chuck. The CIA was pressuring me, wanting more research, more results. They wanted me to be in D.C., so they could watch me. Track me," Stephen said, his face darkening. "I wasn't going to uproot you and your sister like that. And I didn't want them to know how talented you both are."

"Dad, they're the CIA," he pointed out. "They can find out anything they want to know."

"I know that, Chuck," Stephen said, clasping his hands together. "But . . . but I didn't want to lose you two. Not like I lost your mother."

Chuck swallowed. The disappearance of his mother was the event that had changed his childhood. Before that, his father had been an absent-minded yet loving man. A good father. But after his wife had vanished without a trace, Stephen Bartowski had changed. He'd withdrawn into his work, abdicating more and more parental responsibility to Ellie. She hadn't known any more than Chuck had about where their mother was, so the two of them had become even closer since they had lost first their mother and then their father.

The idea that his father felt guilty for the loss of their mother, and wanted to protect his children, was new to Chuck. It didn't excuse what had happened, but at least it was some kind of explanation for his actions. Chuck could understand how fear could paralyze you; his recent behavior with Sarah was evidence of that. So it was hard to hold on to the anger that he felt towards his father. But that didn't mean there weren't still questions to be asked.

"Do you . . . do you know why Mom left?" he found himself asking. It was one of the questions that had haunted his childhood and shaped him into the man he was today. Up until now, he'd never thought to ask his father that question. He hadn't wanted to open up that barely-closed wound, one that had just started to scab over all these years later.

Stephen shook his head. "No, son, I don't. She just . . . left. She took some money, but not all that she could have, and vanished. You're too young; you probably don't remember the investigation. There was nothing for the police to investigate." His father swallowed. "They were ready to suspect me when I told them she had been gone two weeks before I reported her missing. But with a lack of evidence, they dropped the case after a while."

"You waited that long? And you never tried to look for her?" It didn't make sense to him that his father wouldn't have used every resource to find Mary Bartowski.

His father shrugged. "I tried. But I never found a trace of her." He looked at Chuck for a long moment. "Your mother had a lot of secrets, Chuck. I knew better than to ask her to share them with me."

He shook his head. "I don't understand. I-I know you loved Mom. But you didn't try to look for her? Because of her secrets?"

The older Bartowski blew out a breath. "There are things I can't tell you, Chuck. But you're right. I did love your mother." He gave Chuck a small, shy smile. "I still love her. And if she came back, I'd be the happiest man on earth. The years we had together were the best of my life. Meeting her, falling in love and getting married, having Ellie and you . . . I didn't think I could get so lucky, having my dreams come true." Stephen paused, looking sad. "We didn't have enough time. But I don't think a lifetime with your mother would have been enough."

Chuck could feel a wave of emotion threaten to overwhelm him as his father lapsed into silence. The parallels between his mother and father and Sarah and himself were striking: a woman with a past that she kept to herself and the nerd who fell in love with her. The only difference was that he wasn't willing to let Sarah keep her secrets at the expense of their relationship. And Sarah was willing to open up in order to have a real relationship with him.

When he was small, Chuck had known that his mother was a bit different from Mrs. Grimes or any of the other mothers he knew. She was somewhat distant, like her mind was occupied with bigger things than her children and their needs. It wasn't until years later that he'd been able to put her behavior in those terms. All he knew as a child was he loved his mother and thought she was the prettiest, nicest, most wonderful woman in the world-but when her actions didn't match up with his mental image, he had thought it was his fault, because he was bothering her or being annoying. So he'd go to Ellie, who always had time for Chuck, even at the height of her teenage antipathy towards her family.

He'd been lucky to have Ellie growing up-more than he had known, he was realizing. The idea that his father was still carrying a torch for his mother was both sweet and sad. But he didn't want to be like his father. He didn't want to look back at sixty and have regrets from not acting.

As he tried to figure out what to say to his father-deciding whether he wanted to keep talking about Mary's disappearance or share with Stephen his plans to propose to Sarah-he looked around the room. To his surprise, he noticed the scientists all standing around, looking annoyed, frustrated and concerned. His father must have picked up on the increased hum of conversation, because he got up from his chair and walked over to one of the groups. Chuck got up and followed him, the spy equivalent of a spidey-sense tingling.

"There's no Internet at all?" Chuck heard his father say as he approached the gathering.

"No," said one of the researchers, pushing at his glasses. "Just went down. And the phones aren't working, either."

Chuck frowned. Now he was definitely getting a bad feeling about this. His father looked at him and nodded, then turned back to the scientists. "Probably just nothing," Stephen said. "Why doesn't someone go to the IT department and let them know?"

"I'll go," said the scientist who had given them the bad news. "Not like I can do anything here." He turned and left the lab, leaving everyone milling around.

"I don't like this, Dad," Chuck said, lowering his voice.

"Neither do I," Stephen replied, his voice equally quiet. "Chuck, maybe you should get out of here."

"What? No, Dad," he protested.

Stephen lowered his voice. "Chuck, Fulcrum doesn't know you don't have the Intersect now. If these problems are caused by Fulcrum, if they're trying to break in, then capturing you would be a good plan. Especially as a back-up to getting the Intersect for themselves."

"This could all be caused by someone cutting the wrong wire," Chuck said, finding himself playing devil's advocate. "There's no reason to think this is part of some big invasion plan by Fulcrum. And I'm not gonna run."

"You have to, though!"

Chuck blinked. "Why, Dad? Why do I have to get out of here?"

"You just do. At the very least, you should get out of this area-go back to your suite and lay low."

His father looked at him, then started fumbling with his shirt cuffs. "Take this," he said, pulling up his sleeve and revealing the gauntlet computer that he had been wearing at Roark Instruments. "You can tap into the security grid, make sure you don't run into any trouble."

Part of him thought he should protest further, hold firm and stay here in the lab in case something was happening. But he didn't have any weapons and while his martial arts skills were fair, in the back of his head loomed doubts about his abilities. And his father's vehemence that he should leave and hide . . . perhaps that wasn't the worst idea ever. At the very least, he could try and find Sarah and Casey, figure out what was going on. So he took the computer that Stephen handed over to him.

"Be careful, Dad," he said, strapping the computer around his arm.

"Don't worry about me," Stephen said, pushing him towards the door. "Keep yourself safe."

Chuck paused and looked at Stephen. There was still so much unsaid between them. But in this moment, he was acting like a father. And realizing that, it felt perfectly natural for Chuck to hug his father tightly.

"You, too, Dad," he said quietly before letting him go.

Stephen patted Chuck's shoulder, looking choked up. "Go now," he said.

He swallowed and nodded. He felt like he should say something, but what else could he say? So without a word, he slipped out of the lab.

XXX

There was an eerie silence as he walked through the halls; his footsteps seemed to echo loudly as he slowly walked down the corridor to the nearest stairwell. Chuck glanced at the computer, but it showed no signs of anyone in the vicinity. So he kept moving, doing his best to place his feet lightly and stay cautious.

He felt nervous, anxious. What had caused the communications blackout? He knew that most everyone in the building was assuming it was Fulcrum. But after the lockdown this morning, he wasn't sure if he should jump to that conclusion. This might be nothing-just an unexpected failure.

But he doubted that. This had to be Fulcrum, attacking the CIA for real this time. So the smart thing to do was to get to the suite and arm himself, make sure he would be able to defend himself, and collaborate with others about how to deal with the attack. He had finally recovered from the Intersect removal, so at least he didn't feel like he'd throw up if he had to fight. But without the Intersect . . .

Chuck sighed softly. It wasn't like the Intersect could help him much in a fight. In fact, sometimes it had hurt him-like when he found out he was fighting one of the Triad's best clean-up men and froze up. The new version, the one that would give him skills, might help him if he had it. But he didn't have either version right now. And he was realizing that the Intersect was a bit like Dumbo's feather. He didn't need it, but it was reassuring to have it, even when the Intersect didn't help him fight at all.

Finally reaching the stairwell, Chuck looked around and pushed open the door, slipping inside. Just as the door closed, the computer's display flashed and he heard the sound of footsteps. He crouched in the corner, edging away from the stairwell door and into the shadows. The footsteps weren't echoing, so he guessed that it wasn't from people walking down the stairs-a guess that was confirmed when he looked at the computer. It seemed like one person was approaching two others, the three meeting up just outside the stairwell door.

"You're late," said a deep male voice. "We were supposed to rendezvous at the laboratory five minutes ago."

"I had to backtrack and find a new way here," said a familiar-sounding woman, her voice inexplicably reminding Chuck of a cat. "I saw Agent Walker."

Chuck did a double-take. That voice . . . He eased himself up from his crouch and tiptoed over to the door, poking his head up just enough so he could see out through the window in the door.

He didn't recognize the two men, both of them square-jawed and all-American in appearance, the only differences between them being one was dark-haired and one was fair. But the woman's face was burned on his brain. It was Sylvia, the Fulcrum agent that he had to flirt with during the mission in the suburbs. The one that he thought was in prison. He ducked down, staying pressed against the door as he listened.

"Did she see you?" another male voice asked, sounding annoyed.

"Maybe? It was just for a moment," Sylvia said, her doubt clear from her voice.

"You wrecked our prototype and now you've jeopardizing our chance at finally gaining the Intersect," the first man said.

There was a faint rustling, then Sylvia spoke, her voice frantic. "She didn't see me, I'm sure of it! You don't have to do this-how else are you going to know how to upload the Intersect without me?"

"I'll manage," the man said, his words followed by a high-pitched _fwpt_.

As the sound of something hitting the floor came through the door, Chuck swallowed. It looked like Sylvia had paid for her supposed mistakes with her life.

"Just push her to the side," the man said impatiently; Chuck guessed he was speaking to his fellow Fulcrum agent. "We have to get to the Intersect room and neutralize everyone before I can upload the Intersect. If Walker saw Sylvia, she'll have sounded the alarm and we'll be surrounded if we don't hurry."

"Maybe we should abort, Daniel. Get out before it's too late."

"It's already too late," the Fulcrum operative named Daniel replied. "You knew what this was when you volunteered: either we get the Intersect or we die. Now, unless you want to join Sylvia, I suggest you follow me."

There was a set of footsteps striding off, then the other man spoke, his voice pleading. "All right, Daniel, I'm coming." From the sound of his footsteps, he was hurrying after Daniel.

Chuck felt his heart race. Neutralizing everyone? He knew what that meant. His father was in danger, real honest-to-God danger. And he agreed with Daniel: if Sarah had seen Sylvia and realized who she was, the CIA was probably preparing to strike against the invaders. At this very moment, Sarah might be moving through the building, putting herself in harm's way in order to defeat Fulcrum.

And here he was, skulking around and trying to sneak away from the fight.

He felt a wave of guilt wash over him. What was he doing? How had he let himself think that sneaking away, leaving his father and the love of his life, was the smart thing to do? Sure, he had told himself he was just getting weapons, trying to be more effective-but he was running. And that wasn't him.

Deep down, did he buy in to his father's doubts-that without the Intersect, he wasn't a spy? That was ridiculous, but how else could he explain giving in to his father's request and trying to hide?

Shaking his head, Chuck took a deep breath. There wasn't time to be beating himself up over his mistake. His priority should be figuring out a plan and putting it into action. He would just have to hope that he'd be able to hold off any Fulcrum agents he encountered, since there wasn't a surefire way of not tangling with anyone on his way back to the Intersect room, even with the computer helping him.

His fingers moved quickly as he used the gauntlet computer, then bit back a curse. All the hallways were crawling with people now-probably Fulcrum. How could he-

A sudden inspiration came to him. Chuck started scrolling through the computer, seeing if his idea would work. A smile slowly grew on his face as he found what he needed and formulated his plan. Then, with a quick peek through the stairwell door's window, he crept out into the hallway, going six feet and finding the grate he had been looking for.

Chuck crouched down and tugged on the grate. The screws seemed fairly secure, but loose enough that he could unscrew them with his fingers. Since there was no time to waste, he got to work.

There was just one more screw to go when the computer vibrated against his arm, warning him that someone was coming. Chuck grimaced and unscrewed faster, but with his clammy fingers slipping, he didn't think-

"Freeze!"

A chill went over him. Glancing over his shoulder, he saw a short, stocky man, dressed in black and pointing a gun at him. Chuck lifted his hands up in the air and slowly stood, turning to face the man.

"You got me," he said, feeling a weak smile flash across his face.

The man, who Chuck assumed was a Fulcrum agent, snorted. "Yeah." He reached down to his belt and yanked off a walkie-talkie. He pushed down the button. "This is Perry. I'm-"

Taking advantage of Perry's distraction, Chuck moved as fast as he could to grab Perry's wrist, trying to grab the gun in his hand. The walkie-talkie went flying as they wrestled for the gun.

Chuck gritted his teeth, struggling to gain the upper hand. Perry was thickset but muscular-he was putting up a good fight. What could he do to end this?

Thinking quickly, Chuck got the best grip he could on Perry's wrist, then crouched down and flipped Perry over his shoulders, grabbing the gun as the man went flying. Perry hit the floor with a thud and Chuck quickly punched him, managing to knock him out.

"Owwwww," Chuck hissed softly, shaking his hand. Perry had a hard jaw.

He tucked the gun in the back of his jeans and hurried back over to the grate. A few moments of work got the final screw out and Chuck looked into the duct revealed by pulling aside the grate. It looked a lot tighter than the building's blueprints had indicated. But this was the best way to get to the Intersect room without attracting the attention of Perry's compatriots. At this point, some of them might even be on their way, thanks to Perry's aborted transmission.

Sucking in a breath, Chuck climbed into the vent. Clearly these ducts weren't designed for six-foot-four men, but somehow he managed to reach behind him and replace the grating. Then, he looked ahead of him. With the grate back in place, the duct was dimly-lit and full of rushing air.

And he was stalling, because this was creepy and bound to end badly. But what choice did he have?

With that pleasant thought in his mind, he started crawling slowly, using the light of the computer's display to steer him towards the Intersect room.

XXX

The moment when the computer told him that he was at the lab that adjoined the Intersect room, it couldn't come too soon. He had passed claustrophobic several minutes ago and had descended into full-on freak-out mode. It had only been through concentrating on Sarah that he had made it.

In the back of his mind, he realized that a real spy wouldn't let himself get distracted like that. But he didn't care. In the dark, narrow confines of the ductwork, it calmed him down. Imagining Sarah's smile and her eyes, pretending he was holding her hand, thinking about their future . . . It gave him extra determination to face Fulcrum and prevent them from getting the Intersect.

Because once that happened, he could finish his question to Sarah. He could ask her to marry him. He might not have a perfect proposal all planned out, with a ring and a fancy setting, but he didn't care. All he wanted was Sarah. At that moment, he made a vow. As soon as this attack was stopped and they were together, he'd propose. The story his father had told reinforced that Sarah and he didn't have forever. He didn't want to waste time by being scared about rejection.

With that settled, Chuck turned his attention to the computer strapped around his arm. According to the schematics, he was in the ceiling of the lab adjoining the Intersect room. Through the grate, he could see down into the empty room. Pressing his ear against the duct, he couldn't hear anything coming from the room. That could be from the rushing air in the duct, drowning out any sound.

He glanced down at the computer and saw that it didn't indicate anyone in the vicinity below. So he went to work on the screws, a job much more complicated by being on the wrong side of the screws. After several minutes, he managed to get a few of the screws loosened enough that a gap appeared between the duct and the grate.

Chuck glanced at his watch. It had taken him over a half-hour to get to this point-way too much time. So with a grimace, he slammed his elbow down against the grate. The metal squealed at the stress put on the screws, but a bigger opening was made. Shifting around as best as he could, he got his feet around so he could apply more leverage. One stomp against the grate caused the screws to fail, dropping the grate down on the floor.

Not wasting any time, Chuck slid his legs through the opening. He dangled in mid-air for a moment until he let go, just missing landing on top of the grate.

Rubbing at one of his ankles, Chuck looked around and realized he had miscalculated in some way. Because he wasn't in the lab-he was in the Intersect room.

And he wasn't alone.

By the door there was someone sprawled out face-up. As Chuck edged closer, he quickly realized two things: it was the Fulcrum member named Daniel, and he was dead.

Swallowing, Chuck tried not to lose what little food there was in his stomach. Even though this Daniel was a bad guy, seeing the blood spreading out from underneath him was a shock. But he had to focus and ignore the body for the moment.

Chuck stepped over to the Intersect console and saw a flashing cursor under the words INTERSECT READY. He let out a sigh of relief. It looked like the Fulcrum agent hadn't been able to upload the Intersect-perhaps he was interrupted by the person who killed him.

The first thing he should do was check on his father and the rest of the scientists. Giving the body a wide berth, Chuck went to the door and turned the handle. But the door didn't open. He yanked on the handle, both pulling and pushing at the door-he didn't want to be the stupid one who pulled when he should have pushed. But neither choice resulted in the door opening. It must be locked from the outside.

Looking up, Chuck immediately ruled out going back through the vents. Not only was the ceiling a good twelve feet from the floor, he didn't think he could bear moving through the ductwork again.

He tapped on the gauntlet computer, trying to get some kind of message out, but the lines of communication still seemed to be down. Being blind like this was unsettling. Chuck frowned, then decided to try accessing the video feeds within the building. But after a few minutes, he had to give up-the computer just wasn't powerful enough to display video.

Suddenly, the computer's display flashed and displayed a map of the immediate area, with a collection of dots moving closer to him. There was no way of knowing who was coming, but he had to assume it was Fulcrum. They were probably coming to check on Daniel's progress with the Intersect.

And when they saw that their agent was dead, they would assume that Chuck had killed him and probably would kill him in return. The number of people advancing were way more than he could handle in a shoot-out, especially with a gun that had only- He sighed when he checked the gun and saw it had only six bullets.

So what was his best option? Hope that it was the CIA who was moving towards him? Make a last stand against Fulcrum? Or . . .

Chuck turned slowly towards the Intersect console. Even from here, he could see the cursor flashing still. He had no way of knowing how long the Intersect upload would take or what would happen if it was interrupted. But if luck was on his side, he could get the upload finished and be able to use the new skills in the Intersect 2.0 against Fulcrum.

The only time he had ever been that lucky was when he met Sarah. Hoping that he hadn't used up all his luck, Chuck stepped up to the computer and laid his hand on the scanner pad. It glowed green around his fingers, then the screen flashed and the words UPLOAD INTERSECT? Y/N appeared.

For a moment, he hesitated, wondering if this was the right thing to do. A quick glance at the gauntlet computer told him that if he was going to do this, he needed to do it now.

So with fingers that shook only slightly, Chuck typed Y and pressed the Enter key.

The white walls flashed, each panel becoming a video screen that displayed a different image. Taking a deep breath, Chuck kept his eyes open as the images began flashing, uploading the Intersect into his brain. And with his last conscious thought, he hoped this would work so he could see Sarah again.

XXX

As Chuck slowly became fully conscious again, he realized that the dull thuds he heard were not, in fact, the sound of his head pounding. They were coming from the door.

Squinting a little, his eyes sensitive to the bright whiteness of the room, Chuck used the gauntlet computer to see that a mass of people had converged on the other side of the door. He glanced up at the Intersect console, seeing that the computer's screen displayed the message UPLOAD COMPLETE.

He slowly pushed himself to his feet, then looked at his watch. The upload seemed to have taken only five minutes, an improvement that he appreciated right now.

Of course, the upload was only the first part of his plan. He had to hope that the Intersect would work when Fulcrum agents surrounded him.

Suddenly, the door gave up against the battering ram being applied to it. It nearly flew off its hinges, just missing the body.

A group of ten men streamed into the room, taking up defensive positions. From their clothing and lack of ID badges, Chuck assumed they were Fulcrum. Then, two men walked in: one of them was the man he had seen with Daniel and the other possessing an unmistakable air of leadership. They were followed by-

"Sarah!" he blurted out, shocked to see her hands tied in front of her. To his further surprise, Casey and Stephen were behind her, both men's hands bound as well.

A brush against his back made him whirl around in time to see one of the Fulcrum agents stepping back, holding the gun that Chuck had taken from Perry.

He turned back to face everyone, trying to stay calm. Sarah and Casey both showed signs of physical struggles: Sarah had a bruise forming on her cheek and Casey had the start of a black eye as well as a split lip. Clearly, they had fought their capture. His father appeared to be all right and uninjured.

"You must be Bartowski," the leader said, eyeing Chuck. "You don't look like much." He sneered slightly. "Not at all what I expected for the Human Intersect."

"W-well, that's kind of the whole idea," he said, stammering a little.

"Enough," the man said. He drew his gun, pointing it at Chuck. "Marvin, what you got?"

A man who had been crouching over the Intersect console since Fulcrum entered the room turned, a grimace on his face. "It's been uploaded."

At this point, Chuck could see this going one of two ways. Either they'd think their agent had uploaded the Intersect and Chuck had killed him afterwards, or they'd think Chuck had killed Daniel and then uploaded the Intersect. One option meant they'd capture him and want him to join them. The other meant he was dead.

The leader cocked his gun, his eyes steely. "That's unfortunate for you."

When he felt the familiar flash sensation, Chuck could have jumped for joy. Instead of seeing images as he accessed intelligence, his whole body tingled as random characters in what looked like Japanese were displayed in his mind's eye.

"Chuck? Did you flash?" Stephen asked, drawing Chuck out of the flash.

There was no time to respond to his father. With lightning reflexes, Chuck easily disarmed the leader, sending his gun flying. A few quick jabs and punches had the man reeling, then a textbook high kick from Chuck sent him to the floor.

Panting, Chuck threw a glance at Sarah, who was looking at him with widened eyes. Then the Fulcrum agents rushed at him and he had to start fighting.

It was all a blur to him: kicks and punches, sweeping the leg and rolling out of the way. Even with his new Intersect skills, taking on eleven men at once was too much. Just when he felt the first stirrings of doubt, Sarah joined him, her hands now unbound and flying out fast and hard. He glanced over and saw Casey protecting his father, a fact that relaxed him enough to focus on using his newfound skills.

Even with the Intersect, it took a lot of strategy to fight so many men at once. In the back of his mind, he realized he couldn't do this without Sarah. He'd always known she was an amazing martial artist; she wouldn't have been training the Project Omaha recruits otherwise. And he knew that it was thanks to her that he had any martial arts skills at all. With the new Intersect supplementing his skills, he felt unstoppable. There was no way Fulcrum could win today.

That went double now that he was fighting with Sarah. They were in sync, connected in a way that they'd only experienced a few times before. It was like they could anticipate each other's moves. If he had any doubts about their relationship, about what he wanted, this fight was putting them all to rest. There wasn't anything they couldn't face, as long as they could face it together.

The fight was over before he realized it. He looked around, panting, realizing that only he, Sarah, Casey and his father were left standing. A huge smile spread across his face and he looked at Sarah. She smiled back, her face flushed as she breathed a bit hard, and he couldn't help wrapping his arms around her and hugging her tightly.

"You're okay?" she asked softly, her hands lightly touching his shoulders.

He nodded. "Yeah. Yeah, I'm okay. How about you?"

She pulled away from him, tucking some hair behind her ear. He didn't let her go too far, holding her hand firmly. "I'm okay."

Chuck gazed at her and reached out, lightly touching the bruise on her cheek. "Do you need to get this checked out?"

"I'm okay, Chuck," she said with a small smile. "You can stop worrying about me and think about Casey. He's the one who's really hurt."

Looking over at Casey, he noticed the older man favoring his left hand. "Casey? What happened?"

"Broke my thumb to get outta those ropes," Casey said shortly. "No big deal."

He shook his head. Only Casey would describe breaking a bone as 'no big deal.' Giving Sarah's hand a quick squeeze, he let go and walked over to Stephen. "Dad, everything all right?"

Stephen nodded, looking eager and excited. "You flashed. That's how you were able to fight like that."

Casey snorted. "Sure as hell couldn't do that before, Bartowski."

"I'm not that bad," Chuck said, grinning slightly at Casey's bluntness.

"No, you're not," Sarah said, joining them. "But . . . but normally you hold back. You're too worried about hurting someone." She paused and looked up at him, gnawing slightly on her lower lip. "You weren't thinking about that today."

Chuck tilted his head to one side as he thought that over. "You know, you're probably right." He smiled a little. "That will make Beckman and Graham happy. Even though it's a bit troubling," he said, his smile fading. If the Intersect could remove his natural discretion, his desire to not hurt anyone . . .

"We'll need to start running some tests, make sure the Intersect uploaded without flaws. Given the conditions, we might even want to remove it and reinstall it," Stephen said, his words coming faster.

He nearly groaned at the thought of going through the removal and installation procedure again. "Dad, I'm okay. I don't need to do that."

"I think the other scientists and I are the better judges of that, Charles," Stephen said. "We need to start testing you, now."

"Actually, Chuck will need to report to Director Graham about what happened, and right away. We also need to get these Fulcrum agents into custody and take care of the body," Sarah said smoothly.

Stephen sighed heavily. "All right. When you're done, Chuck, we can start the testing."

"I've got these guys," Casey said, nudging one of the Fulcrum agents with his foot.

"No, you're going to the infirmary," Chuck said. "Someone else can handle these guys." He looked at his father. "Everyone's okay, though, right? All the scientists? I overheard a conversation between Daniel-the guy who's, well, over there," he said, gesturing towards the body, "Between Daniel and another Fulcrum agent about 'neutralizing' the scientists."

"Everyone's fine, Chuck," Stephen said, smiling a little. "They got tied up-they're out in the lab now."

Chuck sighed softly in relief. "Good."

"Okay, let's get the paperwork started," Sarah said, taking Chuck by the arm. He looked down at her, a bit surprised at how take-charge she was being, but not minding it. At this point, he felt exhausted and run-down. He couldn't remember the last time he had eaten, he was grimy from crawling through the ducts, and all he wanted was a shower, some food, and a bed-maybe in that order.

He knew he had vowed to propose to Sarah as soon as he could, but all he could think of was the slap that Ellie would give him when she found out the circumstances surrounding his proposal. And Sarah deserved better than a smelly, tired, quickly-becoming-cranky man asking her to marry him. It could keep until after his report and getting cleaned up.

The two of them followed Casey and Stephen into the lab. While Stephen started untying the scientists, Casey snapped out orders to some newly-arrived CIA agents, sending them off to deal with the Fulcrum operatives in the Intersect room. Chuck leaned against a lab table, watching all this while Sarah spoke to someone on the phone-Director Graham, he assumed. After a few moments, Sarah took his arm and pulled him out of the lab. "C'mon."

A large yawn nearly caused his head to split. "Time to see Graham?"

"No," Sarah said, glancing up at him as they walked to the elevator. "He's expecting you in four hours."

"What?" he asked, looking at her in surprise.

"First off, he's combing through a mountain of intel to figure out how Fulcrum got in. We have to make sure the building is secure," Sarah pointed out. "But more than that . . . you're a mess, Chuck."

"Noted," he agreed, smiling tiredly at her. "And you can't be much better. You got less sleep than I did last night, after all."

"Last night feels a million years ago," Sarah said quietly. There was a note in her voice, something wistful and a little regretful. Did she wish he had finished his question to her?

Normally, he'd take advantage of this opportunity to get back to his proposal, but somehow he held firm to his decision to wait until they were cleaned up. He leaned down and kissed the top of her head. "We can both get a nap-me after a shower, I think. And then we can talk to Director Graham."

Sarah leaned into him a little. "Sounds perfect."

"Then let's go," he said, leading her into the elevator.

XXX

It would have been quite easy to spend the entire four hours in the shower. But sleeping and eating were equally important. So after a quick wash-up, Chuck changed into clean clothes and walked out into the suite. He smiled softly when he saw that Sarah had flopped down on the bed, not even bothering to change before she fell asleep.

He leaned down and pulled off her boots, then carefully pulled her jeans down and off. Through it all, Sarah kept sleeping, which was unusual-and a sign of just how tired she was. After getting her comfortable and setting the alarm on his cell phone, he slid into the bed next to her, slipping off into sleep easily.

The beeping of the alarm, a half-hour before he was due to meet with Graham, slowly penetrated the fog of sleep. He could do with several hours more, but at least now he felt somewhat human. And he hoped that Sarah felt better with her nap, too.

Pulling back, he gazed down at her as she kept sleeping. He was reminded of doing this, for the first time, when they were on vacation in Burbank. Back then, he thought everything was good between them. Perhaps because he still couldn't believe that she was with him or he didn't realize how much better things could be between them. But now, he knew. And he was happy to discover that his impulse back then-that he wanted to make his relationship with Sarah a deeper one-still applied now.

It was a shame to wake her, but he knew she'd want to freshen up before seeing their boss. So he leaned in and kissed her lightly.

She slowly responded, smiling against his lips. "Mmmm."

"Hey," he said softly, stroking her hair out of her eyes. "How are you feeling?"

"Better," she said, propping herself up on her elbows. "I wish I could sleep some more, but I'm good for now."

"Me, too," he said with a grin. "We've got some time before seeing Graham."

Sarah nodded, looking thoughtful. "That's good. I need to clean up."

"You look beautiful," Chuck said.

Letting out a laugh, Sarah reached out and gently pushed his shoulder. "I need to shower."

Chuck swallowed. His moments of introspection and their playful banter shouldn't distract him from the promise he had made himself. He had a question to ask her and he was done with putting it off. "Can-can that wait? For just a minute?"

It took her a moment to respond. He could see her thinking, wondering what was going on. But she nodded slowly. "Yeah, it can wait."

He took a deep breath. It had been a lot easier the last time, when he had followed his impulse that it was the right time. Now, there was the pressure of his aborted proposal weighing on him, making him act in a way that was bound to make Sarah wonder what was going on-if she hadn't already guessed. He could feel the tension creeping into the room, which was the last thing he wanted.

Reaching out, he stroked her hair again. "Sarah, I love you. So much."

"I love you, too," Sarah said, gazing up at him, looking a bit nervous. "Is-is this about that question you wanted to ask me?" As soon as the words were out of her mouth, he could see her wince slightly, like she hadn't meant to say that.

Nodding, he gazed back at her. There were so many things he could say and his tongue felt like it weighed a thousand pounds. Maybe-maybe he should just say it.

Before he could lose his nerve, he asked the most important question of his life. "Sarah, will you marry me?"

End, Chapter 17


	18. Chapter 18

It was only thanks to adrenaline and years of training that Sarah was still on her feet. The lack of sleep and food was starting to catch up with her, especially when combined with the emotional upheaval of the last day. Worries about Chuck and the Intersect, not to mention their future together, had put her on edge.

With the phone pressed to her ear, Sarah tapped her foot, lost in her thoughts as she waited for Graham to pick up. He was expecting to hear the details about the fight in the Intersect room. She was grateful that Chuck was able to upload the new version of the Intersect and it was a relief that it seemed to be working properly. Better than that-it seemed flawless. Watching him take out the leader of the Fulcrum attack party had been nothing short of amazing.

Chuck would be the first to admit that he'd never be any more than competent when it came to martial arts. He could handle himself well enough, but it wasn't a strength for him. He was always better at finding a way out of a problem before the need for force arose, because his mind was definitely stronger than his body in that case.

Watching him fight, now that he had the Intersect improving his skills, was like seeing a student become a master. He was controlled, fluid and precise, his moves much sharper than before. She did think the Intersect was a bit too predictable in what attacks and defenses it used. It hadn't hurt him today, but it might in the future if he was facing someone really good. But perhaps that was something she could help Chuck with. And maybe her assistance could help with what really worried her, now that she had seen the Intersect 2.0 in action: the difference in Chuck's approach.

Of course he was vastly improved from before. But he also was much more dangerous. The whole reason Chuck wasn't better at martial arts was because he was too worried about hurting someone. He always pulled his punches, either consciously or subconsciously. It was something she loved about him, even though it worried her. Because if he held back from using necessary force, there could come a time when he wouldn't be able to think his way out of the situation. But with the Intersect, things might have gone too far in the opposite direction.

"Agent Walker?"

"Yes, Director," she said quickly, doing her best to push aside her thoughts.

"Report," Graham said, sounding like he was struggling to stay his usual crisp self.

She gave him a succinct version of the events in the Intersect room, from the point where Casey, Mr. Bartowski and herself were lead in by Fulcrum through the defeat of the strike team.

"Very good. I'd like to speak with Agent Bartowski as well as discussing your report in more detail. We need to determine how effective the new Intersect is."

Biting her lip, Sarah hesitated. Should she ask that their meeting be delayed slightly? Neither Chuck or herself were at their best right now, which would impact the quality of their presentations. And to be honest, she wanted to get some time with Chuck. They had unfinished business from this morning and she hated having Chuck's half-asked question hanging between them.

"Sir? Could we meet with you later today? Both Agent Bartowski and I are a bit worse for wear right now."

"What?" Graham sounded distracted. "Oh, yes. I have plenty to deal with before I can see you two. Take four hours and report to my office then."

"Yes, sir," she said. "Thank you."

"No need for thanks. Get closer to a hundred percent, Walker." A click through the phone told her that Graham had hung up.

Sarah blew out a breath as she hung up the phone. Now that she knew they had time, her exhaustion was making its presence felt. And she wasn't the only one, she thought when she looked over and saw Chuck was barely upright, leaning heavily against a lab bench.

With a small smile, she walked over to him and took his arm. "Let's go, Chuck."

When he yawned, she knew asking for some extra time was the right call. Now she could only hope that when he asked her that question-when he was able to actually finish proposing to her-she would know how to answer.

XXX

"Sarah, will you marry me?"

After so much thinking about this question, hearing Chuck actually ask her to marry him was still earth-shaking. Because it was one thing to think about those words, to imagine someone saying them to her. And it was quite another thing to actually hear Chuck, her Chuck, say those five words.

And it wasn't just about the sound of it, the sincerity and hope and love in his voice. It was about seeing him say them, seeing how he looked at her as if she was the center of his world. Like her answer could change his life and determine whether the next sixty years would be happy or sad for him.

She never thought this would happen to her. Had never thought she would want this to happen. Getting married hadn't been in her plans, but she'd never planned to meet someone like Chuck. From his example, she had learned how to open up, how to be more than Agent Sarah Walker. He had made her see how much more she could be. From that very first meeting, in that crowded bar in Mexico when he was still a college student and she was still a by-the-book spy, they'd been falling for each, adjusting their lives so that they could fit together.

There was still so much to talk about. How they'd manage their careers, what they wanted for their futures-even her concerns about the new Intersect. But as she looked at him, there was no doubt in her mind what her answer was.

With a small nod of her head, she whispered, "Yes."

Chuck stared at her for a long moment before visibly swallowing. "Yes?" he asked, sounding so like a little boy, the boy he must have been, that she felt her heart swell with love for him.

Actions spoke louder than words. So she reached out and cupped his face, drawing him in for a soft kiss. After a moment, everything clicked for him, because he returned her kiss with gusto. She couldn't help a soft giggle against his lips.

"Believe me now?" she asked him, pulling back to smile at him.

Rolling them onto their sides, he laughed softly. "It's not a matter of believing you . . ."

"So what is it?" she asked, propping her head up on one hand as she lightly stroked the side of his face.

He took a moment to gaze at her, his hand stroking her hair. "You remember what you said to me, that night you asked to work on the Intersect team in Rome?"

"The night I told you how I felt about you," she said, able to smile at the memory now. "The night I kissed you."

"Right," Chuck said, kissing her cheek. "What I'm getting at is the moment when you finally told me. Do you remember what you said?"

Sarah did remember. Until now, they might have been the most important words she had ever said. Gazing at Chuck, she spoke softly. "It's real."

His eyes, already warm and dark, softened even more. He nodded. "Yeah. I believed you when you said yes, because you said it just like you said 'it's real'." Chuck gave her a small, shy smile. "And realizing that, I just . . . I needed to make sure my ears were working."

"Oh, well, let me check," Sarah said, grinning at him. She leaned in close to him, letting herself brush against him seductively. Her lips hovering by one of his ears, she whispered, "Yes." Then she moved to his other ear, letting her lips brush against his jaw and chin on the way. "Yes," she said softly, trying to convey in one word just how much she loved him.

"Sarah-" he moaned softly, before taking her by the shoulders and kissing her slowly yet passionately.

She closed her eyes, wanting to savor this moment. She never wanted to forget this, forget how she felt. Because she knew that things wouldn't be easy for them. The rules said they couldn't be together and they both knew how hard it would be to maintain a relationship while being spies. But if she could hold on to this feeling, recall every detail, then she'd have something to give her strength when times were hard.

It could also be that she loved it when Chuck kissed her, and she loved kissing him back. She smiled against his lips at that thought, shifting closer to him on the bed. Sinking a hand into his hair, she played with his short curls as they both ended the kiss.

Chuck looked so gorgeous, she thought, especially when he was dazed from kissing her. He gave her a soft, goofy smile. "You think Graham would let us miss the meeting as an engagement present?"

"Oh, why did you remind me?" Sarah pouted.

There was a note of mock disbelief in his voice. "I'm sorry, has Agent Walker forgotten her duty to her country?"

"It happens to her when she gets kissed senseless by her boy-" Sarah paused mid-word, suddenly realizing that boyfriend didn't fit anymore. She looked at Chuck and smiled softly at him. "Fiancé. When she's being kissed by her fiancé, Agent Sarah Walker gets distracted."

If she thought he had looked at her before like she was the center of his world, she didn't know what she had been thinking. Because now, Chuck Bartowski looked at her like she was everything good and perfect and right. He stroked her hair and spoke lightly, as if trying not to let his emotions get the better of him. "Fiancé, huh?"

Sarah nodded. "That's what you are now," she said, hearing a note of vulnerability in her voice. But it didn't bother her. Because with Chuck, she could be vulnerable or uncertain. She could trust him-she did trust him. Not just with her physical well-being, but with her barely-used heart and her fragile soul.

With utter delicacy, he nuzzled her. "And now you're my fiancée. I like that. It has a nice ring to it. But there's lots of synonyms, too. Bride-to-be, betrothed, engaged . . ."

"Mmm," she sighed softly, twirling her fingers in her hair. "I like it when you sound like a thesaurus."

Chuck burst out laughing and she joined in, smiling up at him. This was what she would have for the rest of her life: this warm, smart, handsome, wonderful man caring for her, loving her. She didn't know how she got so lucky, but she was going to do everything she could to make sure he'd always be by her side.

She took a breath and pulled her hands away from him, shifting slightly on the bed. "We-we do have a lot to talk about," she reminded him. "About how we're going to pull this off, given the CIA regulations. And . . . and, well, other things."

His expression was a bit worried, so she leaned in and kissed him lightly. "Talking won't change my answer, Chuck. But we'll need to be practical about this. Prepared."

He returned her kiss then nodded. "Okay. Talking." He gave her a small, lopsided smile. "Who'd have thought you'd want to be the one talking?"

Sarah shrugged her shoulders. "I like being prepared. It's one of the first things Graham taught me." Glancing at the clock, she sighed again. "He also taught me about promptness. We'll be late for our meeting in five minutes." She pushed aside the covers and swung her legs over the side of the bed. "Let's get cleaned up so we won't be too late."

"Sarah?"

His voice was soft and a little hesitant, so she paused and turned to look at him. He gazed back at her, then spoke quietly. "I love you."

Was it possible for your heart to burst from your chest due to a wave of tenderness and protectiveness and love that you felt for someone? Sarah swallowed before speaking, her voice a bit choked. "I love you, too. S-so much."

Chuck's smile was soft and gentle, and he leaned in to kiss her lightly. "Okay, Agent Walker, up and at 'em."

With his kiss on her lips, Sarah hurried into the bathroom to clean up. For once in her professional career, she didn't care that she would be late for a meeting-a meeting that she was woefully unprepared for.

XXX

It was more difficult than she thought it would be, sitting in Graham's office and giving him objective details about the Fulcrum attack, all while Chuck was sitting next to her. Fortunately, her lack of preparation ended up being a non-issue; all Graham needed from her was some basic details to supplement her initial report. Chuck spent more time talking, explaining how he had overheard the Fulcrum agent, the one who had been their pick to upload the Intersect, then detailing how he had crawled through the ducts to the Intersect room.

Such ingenuity was applauded by the director, provoking an embarrassed smile from Chuck. Sarah had felt her heart swell with pride at the recognition of Chuck's unusual strategy. Who else would have thought to crawl through the air vents?

"Your father is eager to begin testing the new Intersect, Agent Bartowski," Graham said, sliding some papers into a file folder on his desk. "In light of today's events, that testing will commence tomorrow at nine a.m." The director stood and held his hand out to Chuck. "Excellent work, Chuck."

Chuck got to his feet, stumbling a little as he reached out to shake Graham's hand. Sarah rose as well. "Thank you, Director," she said.

Graham nodded. "I recommend getting out of the building tonight. It may be your last chance until the testing is done."

"That's good advice, sir. Thank you," Chuck said.

The director sat back down behind his desk in a silent dismissal, so the two of them filed out of the office. There was an extra bounce in Chuck's step as they headed towards the elevator. Sarah couldn't help smiling at him. "Excited about something, Agent Bartowski?"

"We can get out of here!" he said, grinning at her. "Having the director tell us that is like the teacher giving you extra recess."

She chuckled softly. "So what do you want to do?" she asked as they stepped onto an elevator.

"I think I'd like to take you out for dinner," he said, reaching out to take her hand as soon as the elevator doors were closed. "Someplace where we could take our time and talk."

"I know a good place for that," Sarah said, squeezing his hand.

Chuck smiled at her, keeping a hold on her hand even as they exited the elevator. She knew it wasn't very professional to hold hands through the halls of the CIA, but with everyone feeling the effects of the very long day, she doubted anyone would notice. And besides . . . they were engaged now. She wanted to show that she didn't have any reservations about this decision.

After a stop in their rooms to change into casual clothes and a call to the motor pool to get a car, they left the CIA building. She noticed that once they were off the property, Chuck seemed to relax, leaning back against the seat of the car and making jokes with her.

She drove into Old Town Alexandria, easily navigating through the narrow, crooked streets. She let out a quiet cheer as she spotted a parking spot only two doors down from their destination.

"Looks like luck's on your side tonight," Chuck said as she parallel parked.

Sarah grinned at him. "In more ways than one." Once she had parked and turned off the car, she leaned over and kissed his cheek. "C'mon."

Stepping out of the car, Sarah lead him into the small, cozy-looking pub. Soft lamps lit the interior, the light bouncing gently off the dark wood walls and green leather that covered the booths. Pictures of the surrounding area throughout history hung on the walls. Even though it was after seven on a weekday, the pub was more than half-full, a soft lull of conversation punctuated with laughter.

"This place is great," Chuck said, smiling at her. "How do you know about it?"

"A few years ago, I was driving in D.C. when I saw a teenage girl get hit by a car. I called the police and reported the license plate of the car, and it turned out that the driver had three previous hit-and-runs. The girl-her name is Jenny-her father owns this pub," Sarah explained. "He said I was always welcome here-that I would get his best booth whenever I came in."

His eyes were soft as he gazed at her. "That's a great story," he said, his voice full of admiration.

She felt her cheeks flush a little at his obvious pride and squeezed his hand, leading him over to the bar. As they approached, the bartender looked up and smiled. "Sarah Walker. You're finally walking into my bar, huh?"

With a laugh, Sarah nodded. "I was just waiting for the right person to come with me. George, this is my fiancé, Chuck. Chuck, this is George Thompson."

George reached across the bar and heartily shook Chuck's hand. "It's great to meet you, Chuck. Any friend of Sarah's is welcome here, and that goes double for her fiancé. Congrats."

Chuck grinned as he pumped George's hand. "Thanks."

"How's Jenny doing?" Sarah asked.

If it was possible, George's smile grew even wider. "She'll be graduating from UVA next spring, believe it or not."

"I can't believe it," Sarah said with a grin. "It shouldn't be possible that it's been so long."

"You said it," George replied, stepping out from behind the bar. "So what can I offer you tonight-booth or table?"

Sarah glanced at Chuck as she spoke. "I think a booth?" At Chuck's nod, she turned back to George. "Do you still have that booth near the back? The quiet one?"

"I do, and it's open for you," George said with a smile. He picked up some menus and lead them through the restaurant, arriving at a cozy booth located in a corner and angled so that it was almost like a small private room. "Here you go. Enjoy your meal, and the drinks are on me."

"Thank you, George," she said, smiling at him. "That's very generous of you."

Chuck nodded. "Thanks a lot, George."

"My pleasure, kids," George said. He stepped away from their booth, leaving them alone.

"Nice guy," Chuck said, passing Sarah a menu.

She took the menu and smiled at him. "Yeah. When you mentioned getting away and talking, I thought this place would be perfect."

"Just what do you want to talk about?" Chuck asked her curiously.

Taking a deep breath, Sarah rested her menu on the table. Having to start this difficult conversation meant that she wouldn't be hungry for a while. "Well . . . well, we do actually need to finalize some details for Ellie and Devon's wedding. But honestly? We need to find a way to make getting married work with our jobs."

His forehead wrinkled. "I don't understand. Is this about the no fraternization rule?"

"That's part of it," Sarah said. She swallowed. "Chuck, when our bosses find out about agents who have broken the rules-usually because they've wrecked a mission due to their feelings for each other-there's some harsh punishment dealt out. And most of the time, it's the female agent that gets the brunt of the punishment."

He leaned back in the booth, looking concerned. "And you think that will happen to you?"

Sarah shrugged. "Based on the rumors I've heard, it's a definite possibility. Because as long as you're on your project," she explained, being careful not to mention any specific details due to being in public, "you're going to be tied to your job. They'd make Texas leave the United States before they'd fire you."

"So you'd get all the blame?" Chuck asked, his voice on edge. "Seriously, in this day and age?"

She reached across the table and took his hand. "Where we work, it's still an old-boys network," Sarah said gently. "It's unfair, but that's how it is. It's not a big deal normally; in fact, being a woman-being underestimated-has been really helpful in this line of work." She squeezed Chuck's hand, trying to coax a smile out of him. "I just . . . I think we have to be prepared for what might happen when we tell them we're getting married," Sarah said.

"What could they do to you?" Chuck said, leaning towards her. "What are we talking about here?"

"It's hard to say," Sarah said, nibbling a little on her lower lip. "The best-case scenario would be no more working together. You'd have your assignment and I'd have mine."

Reflexively, Chuck's fingers tightened around hers. "And the worst-case scenario?"

Telling Chuck that she could get fired would make him worry, she knew. But she had to be honest with him. She wanted him to know what the consequences were of their marriage, so they could work things out. So they knew what they'd be facing.

"Dismissal," Sarah said quietly. "I'd need to find a new job."

Chuck shook his head. "No. No way. You are the best, Sarah. If you got fired, I wouldn't want to keep working there. If you go, I go."

"That's very romantic, Chuck, but we both know that isn't possible," she said gently. "Not with the value you hold." She reached up and lightly stroked his temple with her free hand.

"I don't care," he said, sounding stubborn. "You shouldn't get all the punishment."

"You might get some, too," she pointed out. "Loss of grade, loss of pay . . ."

He waved a hand in the air. "I don't care about what GS grade I'm at, and if they cut my pay, well, we'd manage. Just as long as you're not the only one suffering." He paused and looked at her. "How do you feel about this? About possibly losing your job if we get married?"

That was the question, wasn't it? Just how did she feel about her career being derailed in order to get married? It wasn't something she'd ever considered having to decide, since she had always put her career first. Actually, all she used to have was her career. And while she knew that her job wasn't all she was anymore, and having Chuck was worth sacrifices, she hated that something had to be sacrificed.

She gazed at him while she collected her thoughts. Chuck gave her time, gently rubbing her fingers. Finally, she knew what she wanted to say. "It would be awful. My entire adult life, this is what I've done. I'm good at my job and I want to keep working. I especially want to keep working with you-this last year has been the best one of my life, both personally and professionally." Giving him a small, lopsided smile, she continued. "When we started dating, I thought I could have it all. Have my boyfriend be my work partner, too. But I guess it's not really possible to have it all."

Chuck shook his head. "I just think we're going about this the wrong way. If you're right and they'd fire you if we got married, because they couldn't touch me . . . that means I've got some leverage in this situation. We have some leverage." He looked at her, then leaned forward. "What if we tell them that we're a package deal-if they want me, they have to keep you on and we have to keep working together?"

"You have met our bosses, right?" she asked him, raising an eyebrow skeptically. "Do you really think they'd accept an ultimatum like that?"

"I'll admit, the strategy still needs to be worked out," Chuck said, gripping her hand tighter. "But the basic idea is sound. I won't work with anyone else, Sarah. And if they want to keep me happy-if they want me to keep doing what they want me to do, they just might be willing to consider the idea."

Sarah nibbled on her lower lip. "I'm surprised that you came up with this idea," she admitted slowly. "It seems a bit calculating for you."

He frowned. "Is that a bad thing?"

Shaking her head, she squeezed his hand. "No . . . it's just unexpected."

"Sarah," he said, holding her hand in both of his. "I don't want you to suffer just because we get married. I know how much you love this work. And you're amazing at it-a thousand times better than I could ever be. But if our bosses are so backwards that you'd get punished for our marriage-I'm not going to let that happen, if I have the power to keep it from happening. Because you don't deserve that, and when it comes to you, I'd do anything to make you happy."

The prick of tears at her eyes made her swallow, fighting to hold them back. "Are you sure? This-this could backfire. Really, really badly." She had heard horror stories about what happened to stubborn agents or assets. If he dug in his heels, she wasn't too sure that the CIA wouldn't do something like throw him in an underground bunker somewhere-and she would never see him again.

"If it means we could stay together, yes, I'm sure. As long as there's a chance for us, I say we should take the risk."

That was what it all came down to, wasn't it? Was she willing to take the risk if it meant staying together? Suddenly, she remembered something her father said whenever he was contemplating a risky con. Nothing ventured, nothing gained. If he was here, he would be saying to go for it, even if the chances of success were almost nil-because if there was a chance, you could work the situation to your advantage.

The two of them could maybe pull this off. Or at least manage to soften the blow.

Sarah slid out of the booth and moved to sit next to Chuck. She wrapped her arms around him, holding him tightly. "Okay," she said quietly. "As long as we're in this together."

He gently stroked her back with one hand. "Always, baby," he whispered.

Pulling away, she gazed at him. Just looking at him was enough to set her fears to rest. Because she knew Chuck wasn't just saying the words. When he said always, he meant it.

"It's a lot nicer sitting next to you," Sarah said, leaning against his side.

Chuck smiled and wrapped his arm around her shoulders. "I agree." He opened up his menu. "Let's figure out what we're going to have. And then we can talk about Ellie and Devon's wedding."

With a nod, Sarah started looking over the menu. Her stomach had unknotted enough that she knew she could eat now. And taking a break by discussing the plans for his sister's wedding would be good. But she knew that they would be staying here a while, because there was still concerns that needed to be worked out.

But they'd be able to do that. She had confidence in them.

XXX

If this was what planning a wedding was like, Sarah was going to do her best to persuade Chuck to elope.

The week they had left in D.C. passed in a blur of work. While Chuck was testing the new Intersect, Sarah helped review the most recent analysis on Fulcrum, who just wouldn't give up. But missing out on the Intersect 2.0, as well as the loss of several operatives, had definitely hurt them.

Not that the pain was restricted just to Fulcrum; the CIA had been shocked to learn that the agent named Daniel, who was Fulcrum's choice to upload the Intersect, was in fact CIA agent Daniel Shaw, an acknowledged counter-terrorism expert. Apparently, he was a little too good at his job, since the CIA had seen no sign he was a double agent.

In between their work, though, both Chuck and Sarah had been working to finish planning Ellie and Devon's surprise wedding. Fortunately they had Morgan to assist them back in L.A., even if he was grieving the impending loss of Ellie. "Although he does admit that if he had to lose her, at least she's marrying someone like Captain Awesome," Chuck had said with a laugh.

Sarah had to admit, as she looked around the reception, watching Ellie and Devon as they laughed and smiled with their friends and family, that all the hard work had been worth it.

Both Ellie and Devon had been so surprised at the wedding and reception-and even more so since it was exactly the kind of wedding they would have planned for themselves. From the ceremony on the beach with Mr. Bartowski and Chuck giving away Ellie, to the reception in the courtyard outside Ellie and Devon's apartment, every detail had corresponded to what Ellie really wanted, but had given up on getting during the planning for her eventual ruined wedding.

It was nice that after sacrificing so much, Ellie was getting the wedding she really wanted, Sarah thought as she sipped from her wine glass. Mrs. Woodcomb had even been admiring of the whole event.

"Not that it's anything more than the wedding equivalent of those old movies where they put on a show in someone's barn," Honey had said. "But still, it's very charming."

With a smile, Sarah moved through the crowd, heading towards the newly-married couple's apartment to use the restroom. She glanced around as she walked, seeing Chuck talking to his sister. He caught her eye and his face lit up in a small smile. She returned his smile before she stepped into the apartment, joining the short line to use the bathroom.

Soon, all this could be happening to her. It was hard to imagine herself as a bride, but it was becoming easier with each day that she was engaged to Chuck. They had kept the news to themselves for now. Chuck hadn't wanted to upstage Ellie and Devon, especially given the circumstances that had lead to this second wedding. And for Sarah, she wanted to wait until they had met with Director Graham and told him about their plans before spreading the word about the engagement.

Of course, last night in their apartment, Chuck had joked that until she had an engagement ring on her finger, they were only half-engaged.

"Half-engaged? What does that even mean?" Sarah asked, laughing at him.

He shrugged and smiled at her. "All I know is, until I've gotten the ring, until we can tell everyone, it's like we're not really engaged."

Even though he was joking, she sensed that he was a little bit worried. She didn't really know why he felt this way. She hadn't wanted to ask and embarrass him more. Instead, she had pulled him down on the bed and proved to him that she considered herself engaged.

After all, it might be a while until they were engaged according to Chuck's definition. Tomorrow night, along with Casey, they would be heading to Rome to clean out the villa and close up the office there. With Fulcrum so weakened, the intelligence reports indicated that the terrorist organization was restricting their activity to the United States. Therefore, the Intersect team was being reorganized and reassigned. After they finished the clean-up, Casey would be starting a new assignment while Chuck and Sarah would fly to D.C. to learn what their next assignment would be.

It was during that stop in D.C. that the two of them would meet with Director Graham and inform him of their engagement and find out what the potential consequences could be. The thought of going toe-to-toe with the CIA still gave her pause. She didn't know if the plan that she and Chuck had worked out, after several hours of conversation and planning, would actually be successful. But she knew it was a good strategy. And at least she knew that Director Graham was at least somewhat supportive of her relationship with Chuck. If there was anything they hadn't considered with this decision, Graham would help them.

So at this point, she was mildly hopeful that they could do this. But until they had the final word, she was trying not to get too caught up in thinking about the future. Today had been about Ellie and Devon, after all. There would be plenty of time to consider her future with Chuck.

"Make way for the bride!" Ellie called out, squeezing past everyone waiting for the bathroom. When she saw Sarah at the head of the line, she paused and smiled. "Having a good time?"

Sarah nodded and smiled back. "Although I should be asking you that."

Ellie laughed. "I still can't believe you and Chuck did all this." She reached out and hugged Sarah tightly. "And I'm so, so happy that you and Chuck are even better than you were when I first met you."

"Me, too," Sarah said softly.

Chuck's sister pulled back, a bright smile on her face. "So? Helping Chuck plan all this . . . has it given my brother any ideas?"

It took all her spy training not to flush and duck her head. "I don't think so . . . I mean, we're taking things slow after our rough patch . . ."

"Well, just don't take things too slow," Ellie said, her smile still in place. At that moment, the bathroom door opened and Ellie darted into the room, leaving Sarah alone again.

She smiled and shook her head. Making Ellie so happy had been worth all the work. And if it had given her ideas . . . well, she'd get a chance to use those ideas soon.

XXX

After finishing in the bathroom and refreshing her wine glass, Sarah stepped back out into the courtyard. The band had started up and couples were dancing around the fountain. She smiled at the sight of Ellie and Devon, gazing into each other's eyes as they danced. Looking around, she saw Chuck talking to Morgan, his eyes bright as he gestured wildly.

He really was adorable, she thought. And he was hers. She had never had someone she could depend on like she could with Chuck. Someone who would always be there for her. And now she did. As she watched him, she found herself growing more determined than ever. Somehow, they'd stay together. They wouldn't let the CIA split them up, not when they had come so close to losing each other.

Their rough patch had taught her that they were stronger when they were together. Having Chuck's support and love had made a difference when Fulcrum invaded the CIA. She had found new reserves of energy and courage, because she knew Chuck was depending on her. And she knew Chuck had the same experience.

"You look lost in thought."

Sarah turned and smiled slightly at Mr. Bartowski. "I guess I am."

He shuffled over to stand beside her. "Good thoughts, it seems. Since you've been looking at my son and smiling the whole time."

What was it about the Bartowskis? How did they manage to get past all her defenses and make her feel sentimental and emotional? Chuck had accomplished that feat many times, starting from when she had first met him in Mexico. But both Ellie and Stephen had the same gift.

She looked at Mr. Bartowski. "Weddings bring out the sap in me, I guess. Although this is the first wedding I've ever been to."

Stephen looked at her. "But not the last one." He held up a hand, indicating he should let her finish. "Chuck told me the news. Congratulations."

At his words, she felt a fluttering around her heart and she couldn't help smiling. "Thank you," she said softly. "I . . . we haven't wanted to tell everyone, since today is about Ellie and Devon . . ."

"I understand," Stephen said. "Chuck told me that you were keeping this quiet, but he took me into his confidence because of a question he needed to ask me."

Sarah looked at him curiously, but Stephen only smiled. "You'll find out. I don't suppose you'd like to dance?"

"Oh . . . yes, I would," she said, surprised at his request.

Mr. Bartowski smiled, a bit shyly, and held his hand out to her. Taking it, she walked with him out among the other couples and then stepped into his arms. For a few moments, they danced in silence, Sarah wondering the whole time why he wanted to dance with her.

"I'm happy for you and Chuck," Stephen said quietly. "He's grown into a good man and he deserves to be happy."

"I agree," Sarah said, looking at him. "And I'm going to do everything I can to make him happy."

Stephen chuckled softly. "I think you don't have to do very much. It . . . it reminds me a bit of how it was for Chuck's mother and me."

"Does it?" Sarah asked, eager to learn something more about Chuck's family. Chuck had mentioned the conversation he had with Stephen, when his father had revealed some details about the disappearance of Mary Bartowski.

He nodded. "We faced challenges to our marriage, too. After all, I'm me and she was . . . beautiful. Talented and wise. I couldn't believe she wanted to marry me."

"I think Chuck feels the same way," Sarah said. "But I-I love him, so when he asked me, I . . . I could only say yes."

"Of course," he said, smiling proudly at her. "Chuck said you're worried about the consequences, though. With your jobs."

Sarah took a moment to organize her thoughts, contemplating how much to tell Mr. Bartowski. "Well . . . the CIA's rules aren't exactly favorable towards agents who 'fraternize,' if you didn't know," Sarah said, keeping her voice low.

He looked troubled by her words. "They have rules about that?"

She gave him a wry smile. "It's more about agents making emotional connections-that's dangerous in the CIA's eyes." Sarah glanced around before continuing. "Chuck and I love working together, but if we get married, we'll probably be separated-and I'd lose any opportunities to advance in my career, if we're lucky. If we're not . . . I'll probably lose my job." She tried to smile. "It's worth it, but it's still hard to accept."

"I can see that," Stephen said. "But I don't think it will come to that, Sarah."

"We have to be prepared for that, though," Sarah said. "Director Graham has already warned me that while he's sympathetic, it can't be expected that he'll protect us."

Stephen shook his head. "No, what I mean is-agents have married each other before. In fact, I know of an agent who married an asset."

Sarah felt a flash of shock. There were strict rules dictating handler-asset relations. If a blind eye was turned towards agents who fell into bed together, a handler and an asset who did so would be immediately split up-no 49B investigation or chance to explain. The agent would be heavily censured and "sent to Iceland" for punishment, while the asset would likely be moved and assigned a new handler.

"What-how-who?" she asked, feeling like Chuck for a moment before she shook her head and tried to be more precise. "I mean, I can't believe that it was allowed."

"It was, once." Stephen looked at her, then spoke hesitantly. "It was us. Chuck's mother and me."

She stared at him, knowing she appeared dumbstruck. She nearly was. An agent and an asset, allowed to marry . . . it had to be unprecedented. And this news could be what helped her and Chuck.

If they argued that agents had been allowed to marry while still working together, she and Chuck could advocate for their continued partnership. Her mind raced, trying to come up with a plan, wondering how she could tell Chuck this or if he already knew.

"Mind if I cut in, Dad?" Chuck asked cheerfully.

Sarah looked up, seeing that Stephen had maneuvered them over towards Chuck and Morgan. She smiled even as she tried to figure out how to tell him about what she had just learned from Stephen.

"Of course, son," Stephen said with a smile. He turned to Sarah and leaned in, kissing her cheek softly. "Enjoy the rest of your evening, Sarah-while you can."

As he pulled away, she looked at him, realizing he was giving her a message. She nodded slowly to him, and then she was in Chuck's arms, moving around the other couples and the fountain.

Perhaps Mr. Bartowski was right, she thought. This would be their last chance to relax for the foreseeable future, with going to Rome and then meeting with Graham about their marriage and their future. If she told Chuck what she knew now, it would ruin the rest of the party for him.

There would be time to tell him on the flight to Rome or once they arrived, when she could break it to him gently. It would be a lot for him to take in, and would prompt quite a bit of research so they could be ready for arguing their case with Graham. Until then . . . she wanted to enjoy dancing with her fiancé.

As she focused on Chuck, she realized that he was dancing very well. Almost like-"Wait-is this the Intersect?" she asked, keeping her voice low due to the people surrounding them.

Chuck grinned at her. "Oh, ye of little faith. Devon gave me some tips, so this is all me, baby."

Sarah laughed, letting herself move closer to him. "I stand corrected. I should know better-it wouldn't be like you to do that. Besides, you clearly don't need it."

His ears turned red and she smiled softly before laying her head on his shoulder. This felt so good. Being close to Chuck, being held by him . . . that was all she wanted. Their futures were unsettled at the moment, even before they started telling people about their engagement. With new work assignments, based on their meeting with Director Graham, and making plans for their wedding, they'd be facing a lot of challenges. And she didn't know how Chuck would take the news that his parents had both worked for the CIA-and had been allowed to marry in spite of that fact. But for the rest of tonight, she wasn't going to look ahead and worry about their futures. It wasn't like her, but for now, she wanted to savor this evening. It was about enjoying the feel of her fiancé's arms around her, feeling his heartbeat move in rhythm with hers, and letting herself fall in love with him all over again.

Even though it was his sister's wedding, this night was for Chuck and Sarah.

End, Chapter 18


	19. Chapter 19

Untangling a mess of computer cables and power cords was just the project for Chuck right now. It was mindless work, letting him contemplate what Sarah had told him this morning.

He had been looking forward to this trip to Rome. It seemed like it would be a little like a vacation, even with Casey along and all the tasks they had to complete to close up the villa. The three of them would be packing and shipping the equipment back to the States, as well as clearing out their personal effects. But with three days in the villa, he had made a lot of mental plans for their stay, starting with Sarah sharing his bedroom for an entire night.

And she had done that last night, when they had arrived at the villa later than expected thanks to a flight delay. They both had been too tired to do anything more than fall into bed. This morning, though, he had attempted to get close to her, only for Sarah to stop him.

"Stop, Chuck . . . I have something to tell you," she said, placing her hand gently in the middle of his chest.

With a small frown, he sat up. "What is it?"

Sarah ran her fingers through her hair and straightened the old Stanford t-shirt she had borrowed from him last night. "It's something your dad told me, when we were dancing at Ellie's wedding."

He groaned. Of course his father wouldn't be able to keep the secret. "I should have known he'd spill the beans. Now the surprise is ruined-"

To his surprise, Sarah had covered his mouth with her hand. "I doubt it-I don't think he told me what you think he told me, Chuck. And I really need to tell you this, so, please, can I talk?"

Chuck nodded, feeling chagrined. "I'm sorry, baby. You go ahead," he said, trying not to think about the engagement ring he had in his suitcase-the ring that had belonged to his grandmother and that he had gotten from his father the day of Ellie's second wedding. If his father hadn't told Sarah about that, what had he told her?

She reached out and took his hand. "Your father told me that he knew about our engagement, and that we were worried about our jobs." At Chuck's nod of confirmation, Sarah took a deep breath. "Well . . . he said that agents who work together had been allowed to get married before-even an asset and an agent. And he knew this because . . . because your mom and him were the agent and the asset."

"What?" Chuck said shrilly.

"I know," Sarah said, gripping his hand tightly. "I was shocked, too. The last thing I'd ever expect the CIA to allow is an agent to marry an asset. But apparently, your parents did just that." She moved closer to him. "Chuck, don't you see? This is a precedent. It'll help us when we talk to Graham."

He shook his head. "I just-my mom was a CIA agent?"

"That's what your dad said. But if she was, the evidence is buried," Sarah said softly. "I did some research yesterday morning, as much as I could without drawing any attention to myself. There's no record of a Mary Bartowski being an agent. But-but I thought you would be able to find out more, once I told you about this."

Sarah scooted closer to him, wrapping an arm around him. "I know this is so much to take in, Chuck . . ."

"It is," he said, feeling his mind whirling. "But, if it is true . . . it'd explain a lot. About my childhood. About-about why she left." Chuck looked at Sarah and swallowed. "But I just can't believe I'm finding this out now, after all these years. And that my dad never told me about this. He said my mom had secrets, but . . . but it looks like so did he."

She gently stroked his hair. "I don't know why he didn't tell you, Chuck. Maybe he thought it'd be better coming from me, or perhaps he just didn't know how to tell you." She gazed at him, her eyes soft. "You must feel overwhelmed."

Chuck let out a soft laugh of disbelief. "That's putting it mildly, Sarah." But he slid his arm around her waist, pulling her close in order to take away any sting from his words.

"But now you know," she said, curling against his side. "And you can be a genius and find out more."

"That's true . . ." Chuck said, slowly coming to grips with this revelation. He looked at Sarah. "You think this might help us?"

"Maybe? Because if there's a precedent for married agents to keep working together, it can't hurt to bring it up. We don't know what the exact situation was for your parents, but this might be the last piece to the puzzle."

"But then Graham will ask how we found out about this. Won't that hurt us, knowing something so highly classified?" Chuck asked, feeling uncertain.

Sarah frowned, nibbling on her lower lip. "I hadn't thought of that."

"We definitely need to do some research if we're going to tell Graham what we know about my parents," Chuck said, slowly getting his thoughts in order. "I don't want to spring this on him only to fall into a trap."

"That's what I think, too," Sarah said, kissing his cheek. "We should probably get dressed and have breakfast, so we can fit in some research before Casey gets up."

When they had stepped into the offices in the basement of the villa, Casey had already been working on an inventory of the armory Sarah had offered to help Casey and Chuck had volunteered to work on the computers. That gave him the chance to start a search while he sorted the electronics.

As he untangled cords and checked the inventory, Chuck considered this new information. Even though they had only his father's word on the matter, his mother being a spy made a lot of sense. He believed that his mother loved her husband and loved her children, but there had been a reserve to her, a distance between them and her that she seemed determined to maintain. In some ways, it was similar to how Sarah had been when he had first met her. At that thought, he found himself feeling thankful that somehow, some way, the two of them had managed to fall in love.

So if his mother was a spy, and had been allowed to marry his father . . . that could be helpful for Sarah and himself. Especially if he could find some evidence of his mother's existence within CIA records, something that would prove she had been a spy. Then they could argue that the CIA had allowed married agents to work together and they wanted a similar exemption from the no-fraternization rules.

Chuck found himself thinking about his parents' relationship. Wondering if he had seen them with a child's eyes and automatically assumed they were in love. It was clear that Stephen Bartowski still loved his wife . . . but had the love been on both sides? Or was this like something out of a Cold War spy thriller, one of those movies with a beautiful foreign agent sent to seduce a genius working for the enemy?

With a shake of his head, Chuck told himself to stop being ridiculous. Until he knew more, coming up with movie plots wouldn't help. And now that he had untangled the last cord, he could check on the search program.

Standing up and stretching, he crossed over to his old computer and took a seat. He found himself leaning forward as he read through the pages of search results, hoping that he had discovered something useful. Unfortunately, he realized quickly that he had nothing but junk. Admittedly, this was just the first attempt, but searching on both his mother's maiden and married names had yielded files that were a mess of redactions and black lines. The only thing that wasn't censored was Chuck's own file.

He ran a hand through his hair and began reconfiguring the search, trying to break through and find something. A pop-up appeared on his screen, alerting him to a new email from a blocked sender. Curious, Chuck brought up his email account and opened the email, taking the time to actually read the full header on the email. But it had been bounced around so many servers that there was no way of tracing it. There were only a few lines of text-clearly the real info was in the large file attached to the email.

_Everything I did, I did for her. This might help you find her, since you're so much braver than I am. Good luck._

Chuck frowned. He automatically thought this might be from his father, but if that was the case, why didn't his father sign the email? Or told him about this in person?

The answer came as he waited for the attachment to load. It was a PDF, a scanned copy of what looked like a hastily-photocopied CIA personnel file. Most of the data was blacked-out, but there were two things that immediately drew Chuck's attention. One was the grainy yet unmistakable image of Mary Bartowski at the top of the page. The other was the words listed beneath the photo.

**Code Name: Frost**

He held on to the edge of the desk as the flash hit him. This was going to be a big one.

_Electrical circuit boards-a flash of light-file folders labeled Project X-a photo of a man-a handwritten letter signed Love, Mary-his parents' wedding license-a book titled The Frost Queen-a map of Russia-electrical circuit boards_

The end of the flash brought an instant headache. He panted, feeling like his head was going to split open. Chuck didn't know what to think. But it appeared he was going to have a lot of research ahead of him, if he was going to find his mother. And if that research would help him and Sarah-if it would make working together while married possible-then no firewall or restrictions were going to stop him.

Because he had an engagement ring to give Sarah, but he wasn't going to do that until he knew they could get married without it wrecking her career. He wouldn't let Sarah give up her job, because he knew how much it meant to her. And he didn't want her to sacrifice and have it hurt them. It was looking more and more like that was what had happened to his parents, in some way: his mother had stopped working when she married his father. Yet at some point, her job had called her back, taking her away from her husband and her children.

He wouldn't let that happen to Sarah and himself. Because he doubted he could pick up the pieces like his father had, if Sarah left him to be a spy again.

XXX

Sarah smoothed down the skirt of her suit, then crossed her legs. That was all the fidgeting she would allow herself when she was sitting outside Director Graham's office. She couldn't show how much this meeting mattered to her future, to their future.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Chuck looking down at her legs before he gently pressed his knee against hers. She looked at him and smiled. As comforting as it would be to hold hands, it wouldn't be appropriate right now. Something about being inside the CIA headquarters made her hesitant to engage in PDA, since that display of affection would probably be seen as weakness. And right now, she felt weak enough.

Not weak, she thought. Just . . . uncertain. They had reviewed and evaluated their plan so much that Sarah didn't know anymore whether it would work or not. And if it didn't . . . She wondered if she should have done more to prepare Chuck for the worst-to reassure him that being married to him was worth any negative impact on her career. But he'd been so determined that they could convince Graham that whenever she tried to caution him, he had changed the subject.

The revelation of his mother's affiliation with the CIA and that she was some kind of deep-cover operative had certainly distracted Chuck. It had distracted her as well, Sarah was forced to admit. The idea that Chuck's mother had been the kind of agent that Sarah had once wanted to be was a sobering thought, especially given the precipice that she and Chuck currently stood on.

She looked at her watch, more than ready for this meeting to start. As if he had read her mind, Director Graham opened the door that lead into the inner office and gestured towards them.

Standing up, she looked at Chuck for a moment, needing to get some confidence before they started. Chuck looked back at her, then gave her a small smile. "Ready?"

And that was enough to make her nod in agreement. She walked with him into Graham's office, sitting down in front of the director's desk. Chuck took his seat and nodded to Graham. "Sir, it's good to see you."

"No problems in Rome?"

It looked like Graham was going to be all-business today, Sarah thought, her worry increasing. "Yes, sir," she replied, trying not to let her emotion show in her voice. "No problems at all."

"Good," Graham said, leaning back in his chair. "Before we begin discussing the news that you want to tell me, I want to share your next assignment."

If she didn't know it was her tell, she would be nibbling on her lower lip right now. Chuck straightened up in his chair. "I think it would be better if we dealt with our request first, Director," he said, his voice firm.

Graham raised his eyebrows. "Is that so?" The director's voice was nearly glacial in its iciness.

Taking a deep breath, Sarah tried to speak cautiously. "Since our news has direct bearing on our future assignment, Director, it does seem logical for us to address that first." She hated this feeling of watching every word in front of the man she considered her mentor, the person with whom she could discuss her career without judgement.

The director's eyes darted back and forth between the two of them, then he visibly relaxed. His voice was much warmer when he spoke this time. "So let's see if you can surprise me."

She nearly sighed in relief. It seemed that they had passed the test that Graham had given them. Sarah looked at Chuck and nodded for him to begin, as they had planned.

Chuck cleared his throat. "Director Graham, you've clearly observed that Sarah and I, we've grown very close. In fact . . . we'd like to get married."

"Hmm," Graham said. "And how do you feel about this, Agent Walker?"

"That's what I want, too," Sarah said, shifting in her chair so that her arm was in contact with Chuck's. She knew the move wouldn't be missed by Graham-that was the whole point. "Both Chuck and I feel that making our relationship permanent would make us happy."

"Contrary to the CIA's restrictions on agent fraternization?" Graham asked pointedly.

"We're aware of the rules, Director," Chuck said. "And we know we're asking for an exception that might not be granted. But we want to continue working together once we're married."

"I assume you have reasons for why this exception should be made?"

This was the moment when Sarah was supposed to bring up the logic behind their request: the success of their work partnership; the acknowledgement that those fraternization rules didn't mention anything about married agents being involved, only unmarried agents; even the example of Chuck's parents to indicate that exceptions had been made in the past. But as she looked at the man who had known her since she was seventeen years old, Sarah realized that he didn't need convincing. He was already on their side, but he wanted to see how serious they were.

She licked her lips. Years of training by her father had taught her how to bluff-and she was about to make the biggest one of her life. "I'm prepared to resign if this exception isn't granted."

"What? Sarah, what are you doing?" She knew that Chuck must be gaping at her for not following the plan, but she had a sense that they didn't need that plan anymore.

Graham chuckled. "I don't think that will be necessary, Agent Walker."

Sarah felt a rush of relief and hope at his words. He gave them a small, knowing smile. "I'm sure the two of you have spent the time since you got engaged crafting a strategy for this meeting, but there wasn't a need. The CIA has long been prepared to allow you to continue as partners after your marriage."

"Really?" Chuck asked, his face lighting up as he grabbed her hand. Sarah gripped his hand tightly, feeling the smile on her own face at hearing Graham confirm her hunch.

"That's not to say you won't be evaluated closely," Graham cautioned. "From Orion's research, the new Intersect requires its host to maintain control of his emotions. If married life is too distracting to the calm you must have, Agent Bartowski, I'm afraid that Agent Walker will be reassigned. But, unless that becomes necessary . . . yes, your marriage alone shouldn't require such separation."

"Thank you, Director," Sarah said, hearing how choked her voice was. If Graham wasn't her boss, she would hug him. She settled for squeezing Chuck's hand.

"Oh, yes! Thank you so much, Director. You don't know how much of a relief this is," Chuck said, his voice raising as he kept talking. Sarah gently squeezed his hand again, causing Chuck to realize how loud his voice was. He looked sheepishly at Graham. "Thank you."

Graham nodded, his smile fading. "Now that we have this personal matter settled, it's time to discuss your new assignment. As you know, Major Casey has received a promotion to Colonel and a plum assignment. But given his success working with you, he will be available as needed in the future."

Sarah smiled, pleased for Casey-and amused that the NSA agent hadn't shared the news about his promotion with either Chuck or herself. Chuck grinned, looking happy.

"Fulcrum is on the verge of atrophying out of existence," Graham continued. "But it's organizations in that position which often prove to be the most dangerous. So your assignment, based out of Los Angeles, is to wipe out Fulcrum for good."

"Yes, sir," Sarah said. "I think both Agent Bartowski and I are eager to get started."

"Well, the first part of this assignment might be a surprise," Graham said, handing each of them a file folder. "We've been curious about how Daniel Shaw managed to turn double without our notice. This curiosity was heightened when we identified who assassinated Shaw in the Intersect room."

Sarah exchanged a glance with Chuck as they opened their folders, revealing a few pages from a personnel file and what looked like a capture from a surveillance video, taken from a camera outside CIA headquarters.

The man in the photo wore all black and had dark hair. Sarah didn't recognize him, although she felt like she should know him. Chuck's gasp interrupted her thoughts and she looked over at him in concern. "Chuck?"

He was staring at Director Graham. "Bryce Larkin?"

Bryce . . . that was Chuck's roommate from Stanford. The one that was already an agent when Chuck was recruited, the one who had tried to get Chuck kicked out of school and blackballed from the CIA. Sarah looked back at the file, her eyes widening when she read the latest information. "He went rogue?"

"That was what we thought," Graham said, leaning back in his chair. "Agent Bryce Larkin left his assignment in Toronto six months ago against orders. It was suspected that he began working for Fulcrum. However, it would appear that isn't correct."

"He's not a double agent?" Chuck asked, sounding desperate for confirmation that his former friend wasn't the enemy.

"Given that he shot Daniel Shaw, it appears so." Graham looked at them. "Your first assignment is to find Agent Larkin and find out what he knows about Fulcrum. His knowledge might be just what we need to eliminate Fulcrum, once and for all. Given your relationship with Larkin, you're the perfect person to find him, Agent Bartowski."

Chuck's body was full of tension. Clearly, he hadn't been expecting this and he was fighting his emotions at this piece of news.

Sarah closed her folder and tugged on Chuck's hand, pulling him to his feet as she stood up. "Thank you, sir," she said to Graham, speaking for both Chuck and herself. "We'll get right to work."

The director nodded. "Congratulations on your engagement and good luck on your assignment."

"Yes," Sarah said, leading Chuck towards the door. He moved slowly, lost in his thoughts. Once they were out of Graham's office, Sarah walked with him towards the building's exit, not caring who might see their joined hands. Chuck would need some time in his head to figure this all out; in the meantime, she could get him somewhere they could talk.

It wasn't until they were outside that Chuck seemed to come back to Earth. "I . . . I've been sending Bryce emails every couple of weeks since graduation," he said quietly. "He never answered any of them. I just assumed he was still mad at me for joining the CIA."

She gently rubbed his hand with her thumb. "Given the circumstances, it looks like something else was going on."

Chuck nodded slowly, then looked at her. "So . . . so at least we spent the last week and a half worrying for nothing?"

"Yeah, that's what it looks like," Sarah said, moving closer to him. "But I don't mind, because we're going to be able to stay together." She gazed up at him. "I can be here when you need me."

"I always need you," Chuck said softly, wrapping his arm around her shoulders. "And it goes both ways, you know. If you need me, I'm here."

Sarah nodded, leaning against him as they walked slowly towards the car they had rented upon their arrival in D.C. Before the meeting with Graham, her biggest worry had been about being separated from Chuck. Although that wouldn't happen now, it didn't mean there was nothing to worry about. With the challenges facing them, they would be tested. The last time, they had nearly let their relationship be destroyed. She didn't want that to happen again.

Taking a deep breath of the chilly air, Sarah made herself focus. She had meant what she said to Chuck: they could face life's challenges knowing that they had each other. Whether it was personal or professional, they could face those challenges together.

Chuck gently kissed her temple. "How about we get some dinner? We can start talking about who to tell first about the engagement."

She gave him a small smile. "You already told your dad."

"Yeah, I did," Chuck said, giving her a small smile as he fumbled in the pocket of his suit coat. "But I had to tell him after I asked him for this." He produced a small red box from his pocket and held it out to her.

Something about that box made her feel both curious and nervous. She took the box from him, watching him to see his expression, but he just smiled. "Open it," he said softly. There seemed to be an extra layer of meaning to his words, which must explain why her fingers trembled a little as she opened the box.

The rays of the setting sun, even in January, were bright enough to illuminate the diamond ring inside the box.

Sarah looked at Chuck, her eyes going wide. He smiled at her and took the box back, easing the ring out. "This was my grandmother's. It was in my dad's safe-deposit box, so the morning of Ellie's wedding, I asked him to get it out for me." He paused and looked at her, his eyes full of love. "Because I knew who I wanted to have this ring."

Chuck reached out and took her hand, gently sliding the ring onto her finger. "I wanted it for you, Sarah. Because you're going to be my wife."

Somehow, a tear breached her defenses and slid down her cheek. She shouldn't be crying, because she had never been so happy as she was at this moment. She didn't want Chuck to think she was sad. But when she looked up at him and saw that his own eyes were watery, too, she knew he understood.

And that meant the only thing to do was to wrap her arms around him and kiss him with everything she had. So that's what Sarah Walker did: she kissed Chuck Bartowski, her husband-to-be.

End.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And just like that, this version of Chuck and Sarah goes off into the sunset . . . for now. Many readers have been kind enough to ask if there's going to be a third story, one that takes us up to the wedding of Chuck and Sarah. The short answer is, maybe.
> 
> Even before I started this story, I outlined half of a third story, one that would feature Chuck's search his mother and the reappearance of Bryce. So I know where I'd want to go with another story. But I also know that I need to take a break for a while. I have a few one-shot ideas, as well as a long AU Chuck/Sarah story, rattling around inside my head. Plus, I'm running a fic challenge on Tumblr leading up to the finale anniversary. (Look for chuckvsinbetween on Tumblr for more info!)
> 
> If I do write a third story in this universe, it won't be coming until sometime in spring 2013. I want to keep writing Chuck fanfic, I just don't know what my muse will be interested in. But I do love the version of Chuck and Sarah that I've created in **Discovering Omaha** and **Building Rome** , so there might just be a fairy-tale wedding in the works for them.
> 
> In case you were wondering, the title of this story is a play on the old expression: "Rome wasn't built in a day." That saying served as a metaphor for Chuck and Sarah's relationship in this story. I hope you enjoyed my interpretation of Chuck and Sarah's lives together and I hope to bring you more of them in the future! Thank you for reading.


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